Words of Earnest
by Anzunico
Summary: It was her earnest honesty, she told herself. Simple, pure, unabashed honesty. Convincing herself to hate him was easy, and writing about it was even easier. She couldn't help that Oikawa Tooru was an insufferable fiend. An insufferable fiend that worked hard, cared for his team, was annoyingly handsome...Perhaps hating him would be harder than anticipated...Oikawa/OC
1. Fate and Volleyball

**Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

 **A/N: This has been simmering for...quite some time. Let's see how it goes, yeah?**

 **Note: Everyone, except for my main OC, will be referred to by their surnames.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Fate and Volleyball**

 **[** **To: Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _The new school year is beginning. I didn_ _'t get your regular good luck text message, so I'll be expecting that along with a prompt apology anytime now._

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _Sorry, sorry! Good luck on your first week of 2nd year! Try not to piss anyone off. Excited to start writing in the paper again?_

 **[To Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _I can_ _'t help if people are stupid and their own lack of comprehension angers them. But yes, I'm very excited to work on the paper again. I have plans for the Creative Corner this year. I hope we got good feedback from it from last year…_

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _You know, for a "Creative Corner", that's not a very creative name. But anyway, I_ _'m sure people loved the column! Just as much as I love it when you don't give out backhanded compliments as graduation gifts._

 **[Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _I will ignore that previous quip. And it_ _'s not my fault you're so sensitive._

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

' _Building character' is a lousy way to congratulate your brother on his accolades of conquering the public school system._

 **[Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _Conquering is putting it kindly. Hence backhanded compliments, leading to introspection and the eventual building of character. I_ _'m only looking out for you, baka-nii._

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _You_ _'re the actual worst._

 **[Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _I_ _'ll take it. I have to go now. We have to stop making our texts so long. Meeting with the editor about my column._

* * *

"I'm sorry, but we have to cut your column from the paper."

"What?!"

Sonozaki Minako had to consciously keep her breath steady to avoid having a raging fit. Of all the things she had to hear…

"I'm sorry, Sonozaki-san, but the Creative Corner just wasn't garnering that much attention." The new, fellow 2nd year assistant editor-in-chief, Asana Tsuyo, looked at her sympathetically, but Minako doubted there was much sincerity in her demeanor.

"But… the people that read it loved it!" she protested, hands balling into fists angrily.

Asana sighed, "Yes, but the demand for it was rather small according to last year's year-end polls. We must cater to the students, and unfortunately the students want to see something else."

Minako stood speechless, her faith in the collective student body of Aoba Johsai diminishing with every breath, and the collective faith in her own writing ability slowly crumbling.

Asana gave the girl a doleful look at the dejected look on her face. "This is by no means an indication of your talent as a storyteller, Sonozaki-san," she pointed out, as if reading the girl's mind. "Pleasing high school students is difficult, and sometimes means focusing on more on…simpler things."

Minako glowered, feeling her face heat up lividly, "That is an insult to my finesse as a writer, and frankly an insult to the base intelligence of the student body. Have they no shame?!"

Asana stared at the girl, eying her warily. "I'm sorry, Sonozaki-san. Maybe next year."

She didn't know whether to be mad at the student population for being a no-good bunch of brainless knobs, or to her assistant editor-in-chief for simply allowing it to be so. But the anger soon dissipated into something more akin to panic, as Minako suddenly felt as if her identity had come into crisis.

"So…" Minako breathed, "what I am to do this year, then? Quit the paper?"

"No, no, absolutely not!" Asana held up her hands in protest. "You're still a valuable member of the team, Sonozaki-san. We'll just have you relocated to another column."

"What column could I possibly undertake as a _creative_ writer?"

"Uh," the young assistant chuckled nervously to herself. "Well, we need a new writer for the sports column. Specifically…the boys volleyball team."

…

Minako gaped at the fellow second year in front of her through the mess of her ebony fringe. She brushed it out of her face aggressively, as if making the fire in her dark eyes more visible would better help convey the depth of her incredulity.

It didn't. Asana merely looked expectantly at the girl whose form seemed to slump in defeat.

"I…don't know a thing about volleyball!"

"Eheh, it's okay, Sonozaki-san," Asana gave the girl an understanding smile. "There's plenty of time to get used to it before official matches start."

"So, what am I supposed to do till then? What am I supposed to write about?" Minako felt as if her entire existence was being put into question. What was she supposed to do with volleyball? Boys playing volleyball? The embarrassing thought of having to explain to her older brother that she was now merely a glorified high-school-events-regurgitator sent a chilling jolt throughout her body. She could practically hear his mocking chortle.

"Go to practices, learn about the game and the players, interviews—we can organize and publish them accordingly. Maybe even have a player spotlight for each week? There's plenty to do!" Asana grinned wide in encouragement, but Minako didn't register the sentiment.

The dark-haired girl stared ahead, dejected. "I have no choice, do I?"

"Well, you do…" Asana reached over and placed a gentle hand on Minako's shoulder. "But we'd really like it if you stayed…"

Minako stared at the assistant editor, desperately hoping for some spark of light that would ignite a change in mind, and in seeing none she merely sighed and gave a slow, thwarted nod. "Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you, Sonozaki-san! I'll be here to help if you need it!" Asana gave the girl a jubilant pat on the back before Minako started making her way out the door.

Minako stared ahead. Giving herself a moment, and pausing in her shock, she couldn't help but think of this strange phenomenon called fate, and how it was she ended up in this moment, feeling these emotions, and thinking these thoughts. If fate wanted to challenge her as such then there were other ways to do it, she thought angrily. She was once a firm believer that fate was in the hands of the subject itself; your actions dictated it, and then this fate nonsense played out accordingly. However, she felt at that moment that fate itself was challenging that very ideology. _'Why volleyball? At least give me something I can work with.'_

"Oh, woe," Minako muttered, staring up at the ceiling dismally as she exited the room. "How fearsome, the will of Fate, for inflicting such wrath upon thee."

"That's the spirit!"

* * *

"Ahhhh, Sonozaki-chan! You're so luckyyyy!"

"How?"

"You get to write for the _boys volleyball_ team!"

"I fail to see the luck in that."

"Do you know who's on the team?"

"No."

"Oh my gosh, none other than Oikawa-kun~!"

"Who?"

Minako looked up from her papers to see her copper-haired friend fall onto her desk dramatically, throwing the back of her hand onto her forehead.

"Only the most handsome, talented, and wonderful boy ever!"

"Oi, Matsui, don't say such undignified things out loud."

Minako sighed at the usual flamboyant theatrics exhibited by her long-time classmate and friend. People often questioned why the two were even friends, considering their vastly opposing personalities. Unbeknownst to most, however, is that Minako had to admit that she and Matsui Suzume were actually more similar than people noticed; simply in different ways.

Matsui looked at Minako, stricken with disbelief. "Eh?! Don't tell me you've never heard of Oikawa-kun?! He's in our year!"

Minako shrugged, turning her eyes back to the papers in her hands; it was the starter roster for the boys volleyball team, as well as their positions and statistics. Diddly squat that did for her. Everything either looked like geometric equations or menu items from a restaurant; wing spiker, middle blocker, libero—what was that even supposed to mean?!

"Ehhh, Sonozaki-chan, you've gotten one of the most envious jobs in the entire _prefecture_! You should at least learn something of the team you're writing for." Matsui shuffled over to Minako's seat and planted herself on it, lightly shoving Minako to the edge. She pointed at the roster.

Minako's eyes followed Matsui's finger as it landed on the middle of the player list onto the picture of a boy with dark, chocolate brown hair, brown eyes, and a seemingly gentle smile.

"That's—" Matsui's eyes searched Minako's excitedly, "—Oikawa-kun! Isn't he dreamy~?"

"Erm," The dark-haired girl looked at the picture, uninterested. Oikawa Tooru, typical pretty-boy, she noted sourly. She recalled girls—so, so many girls, including Matsui herself—screaming his name at random intervals throughout the day during her 1st year, though she never paid any mind to it. Her jaw suddenly tightened and she visibly grimaced at the thought that _this_ was why her creative writing column was cut from the paper; people wanted to read about _him_. Minako didn't know whether she wanted to throw herself off a cliff, or throw this Oikawa fellow off the cliff.

"I was sad when I found out I wasn't in his class again this year…" Matsui pouted, "but I guess it's okay because his best friend is." Her finger shifted downward to the picture just below Oikawa's, to a boy with spiky, dark-brown hair. Iwaizumi Hajime, she read, and Minako immediately recognized him as the boy who sat in front of and diagonally from her this year.

"They're a killer pair; Iwaizumi-san is already regarded as Seijoh's ace, and Oikawa-kun is of course one of the strongest setters in the prefecture—he's already set to be captain next year!" Matsui slumped against Minako's desk and sighed dreamily, "Aish, you're so lucky, Sonozaki-chan."

"No, I'm really not," Minako pushed Matsui off her desk and shooed her away. "I have no interest in volleyball or sports or… _Oikawa-kun_ —this is a waste of my ability."

Matsui chuckled as she made her way back to her own desk. "Maybe you can utilize your ability for the column? Spice things up a bit?"

The bell rung at that moment and the rest of the students began shuffling in. Minako took note of this Iwaizumi Hajime as he made his way to his own desk, looking nonchalant. He seemed normal enough—no girls fawned obsessively over him, at least. She glanced back down at the paper as the teacher walked into the room and harried everyone to settle down; her eyes finally drifted back to the boy with light brown hair and a sweet-natured smile—aesthetically pleasing, yes, but that's what the worst of them usually were.

Oikawa Tooru.

Why did Minako get the sudden feeling that her problems were going to start and end with this Oikawa guy?

' _How unpleasant…'_

* * *

The end of the day had approached, and Minako made her way to the gymnasium currently used by the volleyball team for their regular practices. It was noisy, humid, and smelly already and it had only been half an hour into practice. Minako's nose wrinkled distastefully, pushing through throngs of squealing fangirls gathered by the doors, and hesitantly made her way inside.

The team was considerably large. Aoba Johsai was known for their exceptionally strong—and vastly popular—sports teams, and apparently volleyball was no exception. The large gymnasium shook with the rhythmic movements of the players, alongside their grunts and enthusiastic yells. This was an entirely different world for the young writer, she thought as she stood inside, close to the doors, completely dumbfounded.

"Ahhhh, Oikawa-san~!"

Cheers and squeals erupted from the group of girls behind her, as well as the many that had accumulated above at the upper-level stands. Minako turned her gaze to the side and saw the infamous Oikawa Tooru making his way to the center of the gym for practice drills, smiling amiably and waving to his swooning admirers. Oikawa's smiling form trailed to Minako for a brief second and he gave a small wave. Minako grimaced.

"Uh, excuse me, may we help you?"

Minako turned to the voice—an older man with dirty blond hair wearing a track suit. "Uh, sorry. Um, my name is Sonozaki Minako, sir. I will be the new writer for the boys volleyball team. For the school paper. Uh, please take care of me." She bowed hastily.

"Oh," the man rubbed his head sheepishly, "of course. Uh, welcome Sonozaki-san. I'm Mizoguchi Sadayuki, coach. Uh, okay follow me, I guess."

Minako followed the man to the side lines where another, much older, man stood sternly with his arms crossed over his chest. He regarded the girl warily as she approached.

"Uh, head coach, this is Sonozaki Minako—the new sports columnist for the volleyball team. Sonozaki-san, this is the head coach, Irihata Nobutera."

Head coach Irihata grunted and nodded at the girl, "Welcome. Whatever you need or any questions you may have, just ask. Otherwise, feel free to watch from the upper-level stands or on the side here." His tone was gruff and blunt, but Minako found that she appreciated the straightforwardness.

"Yes, sir. Thank you very much," she bowed again before turning her eyes towards the chaos of the gym where the practice drills were undergoing. "Uh, I'm sorry, but I'm very new to volleyball. I'm afraid I still am not used to the rules and positions…"

"What year are you in?" Coach Mizoguchi asked suddenly.

"Second year, sir."

"Volleyball isn't a complicated sport," the head coach interjected. "Watch the practices often and you'll understand quick enough."

"Um, yes, but we also have many players—most of whom are starters, actually—that are in your year. Feel free to go to them if you need any assistance," Coach Mizoguchi added lightly.

' _I'd rather not.'_

"Yes, sirs."

Minako treaded back a few steps and made herself comfortable against the wall, ignoring the curious stares given to her by few of the players passing by. She pulled out a notebook and pen and made herself look presentable and professional as she poised, ready to take notes on everything she could.

…

…

The drills were a convoluted mess of players hitting balls overhead, underhanded, across the room, straight towards the ground. Players themselves were dashing all over the court, jumping at indescribable heights, and throwing themselves on the ground. Minako felt dizzy just trying to follow along. The mixed sounds of players yelling, grunting, and screaming out words that meant nothing to the confused writer integrated together with the cheers and yells from the spectators, and Minako was left thinking the entire situation felt more like a battlefield from a wartime scene rather than a sports spectacle.

The drills took the better half of practice. Minako sighed, bored and annoyed. Her interest peaked as the players were suddenly gathered and split off into teams for practice games. The writer stood up and made her way closer to the court, hoping that observing a mock match would help her better understand what the heck actually happened in this game. But as the matches started, she realized she was more confused than when she first entered.

Volleyball was not as straightforward as throwing a ball into a hoop, or kicking a ball into a goal. Though the primary principle remained largely the same, the formations the players took, the patterns at which they positioned themselves to attack the ball, the random words and phrases being thrown out by people were completely foreign to Minako, and she found herself tapping her pen against the page of her notebook, irritably; nothing made sense.

The games went on for a while, Minako zoning in and out periodically. She took a seat and jotted down a few notes that she was sure would mean nothing to her when she looked at them again the next day. She was beginning to think that maybe this new writing position simply wasn't for her, and deliberated how to break it to Asana that she would no longer be continuing with the school paper. The thought saddened her, but she figured she'd rather spend her time working on her own writing—even if it were independently—than waste it watching boys run around a court hitting a ball over each other.

Minako's gaze rested meaninglessly on one side of the court, where a practice game involving most of the starter players took place. Though this game meant nothing to her, she had to impressively note the strength and prowess of the players; the sheer athleticism demonstrated by these boys who were the same age as her was admirable. Even this Oikawa Tooru, despite his annoyingly sweet and cheery attitude, had a remarkable level of skill—she had to agree with Matsui's statement of him being one of the strongest in the prefecture.

' _How annoying…'_

Minako continued staring aimlessly at the game, drowning out the sounds of the players yelling.

"Don't mind, don't mind!"

"Nice receive, Watari-san!"

"Chance ball!"

"Keep it in play, everyone!"

"Hit it hard, Hanamaki!"

"Oi, I got this!"

"Iwa-chan!"

"Nice one-touch!"

"Good work!"

"Oikawa, one more!"

"Nice serve!"

"Of course!"

…

"O-Oi, watch out!"

Minako eyes focused slowly, as she turned her head towards the voices that all of a sudden got louder. It all seemed to happen in slow motion.

As the vision of a ball came flying towards Minako, she couldn't help but think back to that strange thing called fate. Was it fate that made her a writer in the first place? Was it fate that encouraged her to delve into a world of creative analysis and fiction? Was it fate that compelled her to join the school newspaper, in order to help cultivate the creative minds of her fellow students? Was it fate that canceled her creative writing column, and subsequently threw her into the life of sweaty boys hitting balls? Was it fate that got her here, like a sitting duck, staring with her mouth agape as a volleyball came crashing at her face with the full force of a titanium wrecking ball?

As an acute, thunderous pain surged throughout Minako's face and head, vision blurring, sending her sprawling unceremoniously to the ground, she was only left with only one, achingly aggravated thought.

' _I hate volleyball.'_

* * *

 **A/N: So...yeah. I love Oikawa. And he'll be coming, don't worry.**

 **Reviews and great, friends. Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Number One Handsome Annoyance

**Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Number One Handsome Annoyance**

"I-Is she dead…?"

"Way to go, Trashykawa, you killed a girl already and the first week isn't even finished."

"Eh, I didn't mean to!"

"You hit her right in the face, too…"

"Ouch, did it make her uglier?"

"Why is that your thought process?!"

"I saw her walk in, she's cute. Maybe not anymore, though…"

"Matsukawa!"

"No, no, she's fine. A little…bruised, but fine."

"Seriously, Shittykawa, I thought your control was better than this…"

"She was frowning at me when I saw her earlier…"

"So you hit her with your serve?!"

"Not on purpose!"

"Oi, make way."

"Stop crowding her, idiots. Let me see."

Minako's vision was annoyingly blurry as she tried to blink away her disorientation. The pain spreading throughout her head-area throbbed violently and she groaned softly.

"Are you okay, Sonozaki-san?"

Minako groaned again, unable to form coherent thoughts and words. She tried to get up, but the dizziness hit her once again and her head tipped back to hit the floor and lolled to the side.

"O-Oi!"

"Will she have memory loss?"

"Oikawa's serves can't be _that_ good."

"H-Hey!"

"Everyone shut up, please…"

"Oikawa, take her to the infirmary."

"E-Eh?! Why me?"

"Because you're the one that hit her, dumbass!"

"Aish, okay okay."

Minako faintly registered her body being hauled up effortlessly. The sounds of various voices melded together, and the girl found herself subconsciously curling into the sweaty, smelly form of the person carrying her as they made their way out of the gymnasium.

—

She blinked once. Twice.

The brightness of the room was blinding, even behind the blurriness of the girl's vision. She brought a hand up to rub her eyes before shifting it up to rub her head. The pain had dulled considerably, but she knew that the headache would persist for the rest of the day. And she didn't even want to think about how it _looked_ like…

"Are you okay?"

Minako glanced toward the voice that called out in her grogginess. Oikawa Tooru was sitting on a chair beside the patient's table that she was perched on, staring at her expectantly. He looked surprisingly calm and unperturbed for someone that just injured an innocent bystander, but the girl decided not to hold that against him.

"Headache…" she mumbled inelegantly.

Oikawa chuckled, "The nurse said you'll be fine, there's no concussion or anything, but you should probably take it easy for the rest of the day. Maybe you should just go home and rest?"

As her vision cleared, she took a good look at Oikawa as he looked at her innocently. He really was handsome…

' _Dammit…!'_

"By the way, sorry," Oikawa sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, grinning gently. "I'm normally great at controlling my serves, but I guess I messed up."

"Uh…it's okay…" She knit her brows at the underhanded, ego-filled apology but disregarded it as she sat up straight and made her way off the table. Oikawa stood up to assist, but she pushed his hands away. "I'm fine."

"Okay~! By the way, who are you?" Oikawa looked down at her, smiling wide. The impurity and disingenuous air in that seemingly sweet-natured gesture made Minako groan inwardly.

"Sonozaki Minako, second year," she replied curtly. "I'm the new sports columnist for the boys volleyball team."

"Oh, great! Oikawa Tooru," he made a peace sign, "pleased to meet you!"

"Right…"

"So, you're a writer then?"

"…Yes."

"And Hirayama-senpai gave you the position when she left?"

"Who?"

Oikawa laughed, peering at her curiously. "Hirayama-senpai wrote for us last year, but she graduated."

"Oh," Minako blinked, scratching the side of her face awkwardly. "No, I was given the position by our assistant editor."

"Oh, cool. How long have you been writing for sports then?"

"I just started today."

"Eh? Really? Do you know _anything_ about volleyball then?"

Minako's eye twitched at the, what seemed like, ostensibly patronizing tone of his comment. And the look on Oikawa's face—an almost child-like innocence and genuine curiosity blended together with the piercing acumen in his eyes—made her realize that this guy was not truly as he seemed; a pretty face coated over a finely operated disposition—and it did not feel pleasant in the least. The implication of that thought caused an ominous shudder to make its way through her body.

"No, I don't. But I'm a quick learner," Minako stated firmly, before any more time elapsed for her hyper-analysis of the boy.

"Oh? Okay, then," he chuckled, patting the girl lightly on the shoulder. "I can help you with that, if you'd like~."

"Uh…"

"Or Iwa-chan can, maybe…he's better at explaining things like this…"

"Um, what…?"

Oikawa looked at her in earnest, eyes shining, "Mm. We can help you if you have any questions or need some explaining!"

Minako narrowed her eyes, "Why would you want to help me?"

"Hm…" Oikawa held his chin thoughtfully before laughing. "Well, no reason! Just make sure to write about me a lot, and give me lots of compliments! Which shouldn't be hard."

…

' _I swear, this boy…!'_

"I don't like writing lies," Minako stated blankly.

Oikawa blinked. "Wh…What?" His eyes glinted with ire as his mouth twitched into an irritated smile.

Minako scoffed and crossed her arms defiantly, "So give me something good to write about, then, _Oikawa-san_ ~." She stretched out his name provokingly.

A part of her knew she was being needlessly vexing, but something about the boy irked her to no end. And she had only just met him. And the maddening thought that people opted to hear about him more than her own creative writing soured her entire perspective, and she willingly admitted that perhaps her thinking had become slightly more narrow-minded. The challenges came out naturally, and she could do all but oblige in her instincts. Perhaps the hit to her face affected her in some ways…

Oikawa stared at the girl, a mixture of chagrin and amusement, before chuckling darkly. "Oh, that won't be a problem, _Sono-chan~._ That is, assuming your ability will be able match mine, hm?"

There it was—the underlying shadiness of Oikawa's demeanor as Minako had noted earlier. She felt riled at his audacity, though not unsurprised, due to her own affronts. The sudden idea of gaining the opportunity to pick apart this guy made her feel a simultaneous blend of excitement and aggravation.

The vein in Minako's forehead popped, " _Oh, that won_ _'t be a problem._ "

The two teenagers glared at each other with menacing eyes, though their mouths formed pleasant smiles. It was a strange stand-off, but the two soon relented, Oikawa sighing softly before running a hand through his hair.

"Heh, you're interesting, Sono-chan." The boy smirked as his features softened. "Anyway, I should head back to practice. Take care~ and you should probably ice your face as soon as possible. Sorry again—!"

"How…unpleasant…" Minako's mouth contorted into a frown as she watched the boy bound out of the infirmary, a cheerful bounce in his step.

He was an enigma of the infuriating kind. No matter the bubbly and cheery exterior of his, Minako felt something stirring underneath it all. Perhaps it was her habit of over thinking things, or perhaps it was just simply his sheer annoyance clouding her better judgment. All she knew was that it would bother her, and it would keep bothering her, until she got somewhat of an answer. An enigma of the _extremely_ infuriating kind, she noted once more.

' _Number one handsome annoyance…'_

…

' _Stop thinking he's handsome!'_

* * *

Minako slumped in her seat that next morning, the improper sleep she received the night before starting to take its toll. She had spent her night at home laying in bed with an ice-pack resting on her face, but the headache persisted all evening and well throughout the night. Her usually quiet father's overbearing concern at the dark blue and black bruise that bloomed across Minako's nose and spread to her forehead didn't help. Her brother, however, was not as kind, Minako noted bitterly as she re-read the texts that were exchanged the previous night.

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _Ha! That_ _'s one heck of a "welcome" message. Send me a pic! I wanna see your ugly mug._

 **[To: Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _Shut up, you no-good jerk. The entire appendage hurts. Besides, you_ _'re supposed to be on my side in regards to this blatant injustice._

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _Calm down, baka. So you have to write for the volleyball team now, big deal. Make the best of it!_

 **[To: Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _How? I have no idea how to write for sports._

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _Don_ _'t think too much about it. Just write like you normally do. But with more volleyball jargon._

 **[To: Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _That_ _'s easy to say._

…

 _Everything hurts._

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _LOL just get some rest. You_ _'ll be fine._

…

 _But send me a pic first!_

…

Minako groaned, rubbing her temples slowly. Matsui kept throwing her questioning glances; Minako had expertly avoided spilling any excruciating details to her nosy friend, but no doubt Matsui already correlated it to her volleyball mission. And the last thing she wanted to admit was that it was Oikawa that did the deed—all that welcomed was an immediate disregard for concern turning into gratuitous, fangirl-induced screeching.

As students began filling into the classroom, the morning bell just about to ring, Minako noticed a tall shadow loom over her desk. She glanced up hesitantly.

Iwaizumi Hajime was staring down at her, looking casual and blank, but at the sight of her face he visibly winced.

Minako snorted, "It's that bad, huh?"

"N-No…! It's just…" Iwaizumi stuttered, "Oikawa probably didn't apologize properly. So…I'm sorry. For the bruise, and for him. I hope it didn't cause too many problems for you yesterday."

"Oh," Minako nodded at the boy, absentmindedly rubbing at her nose. "It's okay. Thanks for the apology, I guess…"

"It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Not really, not anymore. It's fine, really."

"Okay, well," Iwaizumi shrugged and turned to his seat. "Sorry that your first day on the job involved, well, _that_. But welcome to the team."

"Thanks…" Not once did Minako think she would be 'part of the team'. In fact, she wanted to be as far away from that position as possible. She could already tell by the scorned whispers and offended glances from half the school's female population that her involvement with the volleyball team—as a girl, nonetheless—would cause for some unwarranted hostility. The more detached she was to the team, the better.

Although that hope would be short-lived, Minako realized with dismay, as lunch-time rolled around. The hushed whispers turned to asinine gossip, and she suddenly started becoming aware of the things people were saying about her little accident.

"I heard she got _destroyed_ by Oikawa-san…!"

"She just got hit by a volleyball. Though the bruise does look pretty bad…"

"It looks like she got beat up."

"Serves her right, tch…"

"HA! _Serves_ her right, get it?"

"What was she doing in the gym anyway?"

"Is she dating Oikawa-kun?!"

"Why would she be dating him?"

"WHY would her boyfriend hit her with a volleyball, anyway?"

"So they _are_ dating?!"

"They're not dating…! I don't think…"

"I heard Oikawa carried her to the infirmary."

"Oooooh, scandalous!"

"Ahhh, I'm so jealous!"

"Isn't she the new writer for the volleyball team?"

"Who even is she?"

"Are she and Oikawa-kun friends now, or something?"

Minako's eyes glowered furiously as the baseless nonsense continued to spew from the students' mouths. She couldn't help but think of the words spoken to her the previous day by her assistant editor—about the students wanting to read something 'simpler'. If a majority of their time and effort was spent on fueling hapless high-school gossip, then she could do all but agree with Asana's statement. The student body was depraved, and she was only going to aid that. Minako let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and made her way back to the classroom after eating her lunch in the newspaper club room.

"SONOZAKI-CHAAAN!"

Minako lurched forward as the weight of another human pummeled into her. She turned around angrily.

"Ow…! Matsui, what the hell?!"

Matsui grabbed onto Minako's shoulder and shook her violently. Her eyes were wild with zeal and shock, and her short, copper hair flew around her face. "Why didn't you tell me OIKAWA-KUN gave you that bruise?!"

Minako scowled, "Why does that matter?"

"WHY DOES THAT MATTER? It matters the most!" Matsui continued shaking the girl.

"How?"

Matsui halted her movements and sighed dramatically, "I was in his class all last year and never spoke a word to him. But you've barely known him a day and already interacted with him significantly!"

"Uh…!" Minako gawked at her friend, astounded. "He hit me with a volleyball! How is that significant?"

"And then he _carried_ you to the infirmary, and he stayed with you till you came about!" Matsui grabbed onto Minako's hands, eyes shining with passion and grinning from ear-to-ear. "Is it true he asked you out?"

"What?!" The black-haired writer shook Matsui's hands off and stepped back, "Where do the students get these unprecedented ideas from?"

Matusi shrugged, "There's a lot going around, Sonozaki-chan. All of them a stretch, I must say, but somehow romantic…"

Minako shook her head, sighing aggravatingly as she brushed off the insistent questions posed by her friend and her hyperactive imagination.

"Sono-chan~!"

A sinister shudder made its course over Minako's body as she registered the voice of the person calling her name. Of all places, it had to be in public under the scrutiny of the savage student body. Minako ignored the comical gasp that came out of Matsui's mouth and turned to the voice.

Oikawa waved at the young writer enthusiastically, before his face displayed concerned surprise—though it looked utterly disingenuous. He, however, still maintained that ever-cheerful and annoying grin… "Oh, that bruise looks bad."

"It's your fault…" Minako uttered, miffed at the boy's lackadaisical remark.

"Aha, sorry sorry," Oikawa pressed his hands together in apology. "I guess my serve was just too powerful."

"EH?" _'Didn't he say yesterday that it was because he_ messed _up?!_ Minako gawked at the boy who simply grinned gleefully at her.

Oikawa reached over at pat the girl gingerly over the head, "Maybe next time you should also pay attention?"

"EH?! Who do you think yo—!"

"Oi, Assikawa, quit antagonizing her," Iwaizumi appeared behind the audacious boy, smacking him across the back of the head.

"Ow—!"

Minako shoved Oikawa's hand off her own head, silently thanking the other boy for interjecting and subsequently preventing the girl from swinging a well-aimed punch towards the pretty-face of the chocolate-haired teenager.

"Sorry, again," Iwaizumi added lightly, motioning towards Minako before walking past her, and dragging Oikawa behind him by the ear.

"Ow—! Ow—! Sorry, sorry, Iwa-chaaaaan!"

Minako turned around towards the retreating figures of the two teenage boys, hands balling into fists and steam practically ejecting out of her ears.

"Oh…my…gosh…" Matsui choked.

"How infuriating…"

"You totally are friends with him!"

"How did that demonstrate friendship?!" Minako shoved her friend on the shoulder and continued walking back toward the classroom, ignoring the astonished gawks from the rest of the students in the hallway.

Matsui jogged up to her, "He called you 'Sono-chan'!"

"I never gave him permission…"

"It means he sees you as a friend!" Matsui squealed merrily.

"He's no friend of mine. I hate that guy…"

"Oi, Sonozaki-chan, this means that every girl is going to be jealous of you…"

Minako tuned out the rest of the girls ceaseless drivel and made her way back to the classroom before dumping herself on her seat. She glanced at the clock warily, and noted with utter disdain that she probably needed to go back to that horrid gymnasium at the end of the day to face that horrid creature once again. She groaned and laid her her head on her desk, ignoring the throbs of pain reverberating throughout her head. Whether or not that pain was due to the contact of her bruise on the wood of her desk or of her own burning antipathy, she didn't know. All she knew was that the upcoming year was not going to be easy on her energy reserves, and she could feel the pangs of it already.

* * *

Minako was walking through the hallways at the end of the day, fiddling with a pen in her hands, as she ran into Asana Tsuyo, who was carrying with her a stack of papers and newspaper clippings.

"Ah, Sonozaki-san!" Asana waved over to her with great difficulty.

"What can I do for you, Asana-san?" Minako asked halfheartedly.

Asana handed to her half the contents in her arms. From what Minako could see, it looked like various articles, news clippings, and information sheets—all pertaining to volleyball.

"Those," Asana pointed to the bulk of papers she handed to the other writer, "are various clippings from Monthly Volleyball, as well as articles written by our previous volleyball columnist. It might help you get a grasp on how to write for sports, and volleyball specifically. I've also included some rules sheets to help your understanding of the game."

"Oh…" Minako flipped through each of the papers, all thoroughly detailed and fluidly crafted. "Great, thanks. I'll definitely take a look."

Asana grinned, "Great. And if you want more information, just asked the coaches to give you access to the video archives so you can view previous matches."

"Right."

Asana let out a big sigh, "And more thing," she looked at Minako encouragingly. "Since official tournament matches haven't begun yet, why don't you write up some introductory pieces first. Get used to the players, their positions, their play-styles, as well as some insight on their thoughts and goals and we can start from there. You can even add some of your opinions! Just…let's give the students a taste of what to expect for the coming year."

"Uh," Minako processed all that was said to her in the past few seconds. Introductions…insights and goals…her own opinions. She pondered for a moment, realizing that what was asked of her really wasn't all that bad. It would give her something to write about until official matches started, anyway. "Sure."

Asana Tsuyo beamed, "Yes, thank you! I know you'll be great, Sonozaki-san. Don't change anything; write like you usually do and don't be afraid to be, well, _you_."

Minako offered the fellow second year a kind smile, "That…is doable. Thanks, Asana-san."

Asana gave her an enthused thumbs up and turned around to leave—but before she did, she spared Minako one final, tentative glance. "By the way, um, that bruise really isn't all that bad. Plus, Oikawa-san gave it to you, _and_ he carried you to the infirmary. Girls are already dying of jealousy…okay, see you later!"

Minako scowled. If this is what girls considered a point of envy, then she had already given up hope for the retribution of the Aoba Johsai student body. Oikawa rancorously slamming into her life felt more like the threat of war, and if that were the case then she was taking up arms and fighting back.

She had her weapons at the ready.

Clutching at the pen in her hands, she made her way to the gymnasium.

* * *

The gymnasium was bustling, as usual. The throngs of fangirls she pushed through stopped and stared this time, turning to each other and whispering vehemently while gaping at the deformation on her face. Minako brushed off the attention before making her way inside.

The boys were practicing as normal. Oikawa noticed her entrance and paused to wave amiably at her while shooting her a challenging smirk. Minako pointedly ignored him and walked towards her usual spot, taking note to not stand so close to the court this time around…

Coach Mizoguchi, standing next to a few players she didn't immediately recognize, noticed her approaching and signaled over to her. He paused for a moment, seemingly recoiling at the sight of the ugly bruise on her face before composing himself.

"Ah, Sonozaki-san, these are 3rd years, and captain of the team this year, Otsuka Naoto, and vice-captain, Sakai Akihito." He gestured to a tall, lean boy with dark red hair and another, shorter, but bulkier boy with curly blond hair respectively.

"Ah, sorry about that," Otsuka awkwardly pointed to her face. "I'll make sure Oikawa practices his control a little more."

Minako fought the urge to roll her eyes, "It's fine, really. Uh, pleased to meet you both."

Sakai laughed genially, "And if you need any help, feel free to talk to anyone. They'll jump at any opportunity to chat up a cute girl."

"Sakai," the coach warned.

"Ah, okay…" Minako quirked her brows. "Um, if it would be possible to schedule some individual interviews with the starter roster for next week, that would be great."

Otsuka nodded, "Of course. You can always catch us before and after practices. Many of our starters are in your year, so feel free to get a hold of them throughout the day if you can."

"Thank you."

As the two players jogged back to the court to start their drills, Minako made herself comfortable by the wall and pulled out her notebook and pen, along with a sheet of the basic rules of volleyball to go over and apply to what she would notice during their practice games. Reading through the rules, Minako had to admit that as simple of a game as it was—not much more complicated than, say, Basketball—there was still a lot that the players had to keep in mind while playing. Volleyball was one of those sports where you had to always be two steps ahead in order to execute perfect plays. As annoyed as she was by her whole ordeal, she still had to give respect where respect was due; and considering that Oikawa was one of the best, he was one of the ones where that respect and admiration had to be particularly doled out to, as much as she loathed the idea.

In the midst of the various noises on the court, and Minako's own thoughts, Oikawa's voice rang throughout the gym in irksome clarity.

"Yahoo, Sono-chan~! Make sure you pay attention this time otherwise your face will be unrecognizable!"

What was that about respect, again? _'I'm…gonna kill him…!'_

"Yahoo, Oikawa-san~! Maybe you aren't all that good of a player if you have to worry about that, eh? How pathetic..." Minako wrinkled her nose and turned her lip upward in a sneer, placing her hand over her mouth to cover up a mocking chuckle.

"You—!"

"Shut up, Oikawa!"

"Ow—!" Oikawa recoiled from the smacks dispensed out by his seniors.

Minako grunted and returned to her work, alternating between re-reading rules, watching the players, and jotting down notes. Every once in a while she and Oikawa would make eye contact and would consequently make displeased faces at each other. It was a tiresome rotation. Yet still, she couldn't keep her eyes from occasionally darting to the annoying, star-player more often than she would have liked. His finesse on the court, paired with his raw strength and talent was a sight to behold. She suddenly, horridly thought that conducting interviews with him would only inflate his massive ego and goad him into further annoying the girl. She scowled at the idea; just when she thought she would finally be okay with her new stint as the volleyball columnist—the words of Asana and her brother encouraging her to be herself and not change her writing being a major uplifter— it was also seeming that it might get more and more troublesome…

"Sono-chan, look out!"

Operating on instinct, Minako jerked suddenly, throwing away her writing materials haphazardly and flinging herself to the side to avoid the oncoming onslaught of force-filled volleyball.

But nothing happened.

Ungracefully sprawled on the floor, the girl glanced up shakily and met Oikawa's expression which lit up playfully. He held up a peace sign.

"Ha ha, just kidding~."

Minako's eye twitched.

Be herself, they said? Don't change anything, they said? Share her opinions?

' _Oh, believe me. I will.'_

* * *

 **A/N: I'm writing this fic a few chapters in advance from what I post...so whereas the story is still in its beginnings, I'm already experiencing a starts of writer's block, self-loathing, and just hating everything I write. It's great. Despite that, I press on with great struggle. Isn't being a writer great? *heavy sigh***

 **Thank you thank you thank you so much for all the favorites and follows! And thank you to jungkookies, Lady Syndra, and LOL(guest reviewer...lol) for the reviews and kind words!**

 **And jungkookies: I don't read many Haikyuu fics, but I totally realized how cliched the volleyball-to-the-face was haha. And I'm a sucker for cliches and tropes. Thank you SO much for the lovely review! You made my day when I saw it :)**

 **Reviews are great! Thank you, friends, and I'll see you soon!**

 **-Anzu**


	3. Honesty is the Best Policy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Honesty Is The Best Policy**

"We have some strong first-years this year, so that should definitely add an interesting dynamic."

"I'm honored to be captain this year, and hopefully my strength can help build the team even further and bring us to nationals."

"Practice hard, take care of yourself, and look out for your teammates—very basic rules, but when done correctly, are the most the effective."

"We lost out last year, but this year we'll definitely make nationals!"

"Hit it until it breaks, which is easy for me since I'm great at serves, no?"

"I want to make nationals this year with everyone, and show Miyagi prefecture that Aoba Johsai is a force to be reckoned with."

"Build a strong team, together."

"Improve our defensive skills as a cohesive unit."

"Hopefully impress some cute girls…"

"I'm always a winner, though."

"Let's make—"

"Let's make—"

"Let's make—"

"Let's make—"

"Let's make—"

"—nationals!"

Minako's eyes continued scanning through the bulk of her writing while picking at her bento. It was lunch time, and while most students used the opportunity to leave the classroom and mingle with their friends, Minako used the time to leaf through her recent work in an effort to turn it into some sort of an orderly news piece.

She sighed as she flipped through her notebook. A product of her clumsy footing in uncharted territory, Minako could tell her process and interviews were unrefined and clustered. It was a mess of words, phrases, observations—to compile this into a coherent piece of work was going to require some elegant maneuvering on her part. Everyone gave decent interviews, for the most part. They weren't the most thoughtfully eloquent bunch, many of their goals and ideas never straying too far from each others', but she supposed that was a good thing; clear, distinct, and to the point—it made working towards their victories that much simpler. And writing about it less complicated. Or so she thought.

However, every time her eyes trailed towards the words Oikawa spoke the distaste on her features grew. He was just as irritating as she figured he would be, Minako thought, as she remembered catching him after practice the previous day to conduct his short interview.

 **The Previous Day**

 _Oikawa walked up to the girl as everyone finished up their individual clean-up duties._

 _Minako was busy scribbling down last minute notes as she noticed a shadow slowly loom over her._

" _Yahoo, Sono-chan! I'm ready for my interview." Oikawa grinned, waving to her._

 _Minako frowned,_ _"I'm the one who gets to decide that…" She cleared her throat before patting the spot beside her where she sat on the upstairs portion of the gymnasium, and Oikawa happily planted himself there._

" _Alrighty. Hello, name is Oikawa Tooru. I like volleyball, milk bread, going on early morning runs—"_

" _Okay, this isn't a dating profile," Minako shook her head exasperatedly._

" _Fine, go ahead then," he pouted, gesturing for her to continue._

 _Minako made a face before clearing her throat again._ _"So, Oikawa-san, what are your goals for the new year?"_

" _To make nationals, of course."_

" _And thoughts on the new roster?"_

" _Hm, we have some strong additions this year on top of our regular starters, and our defense has gotten stronger."_

" _And how do you feel the team needs to change in order to readjust to the new additions?"_

" _We don't need to change. As the setter I can accommodate to them accordingly."_

"… _Just you?" Minako arched a brow challengingly._

 _Oikawa grinned, a sly glint in his eyes._ _"What can I say, I'm a good setter."_

 _Minako rolled her eyes, ignoring the haughty air to his answer, but before she could start on her next question, Oikawa piped in again, softer and gentler._

" _It's not a difficult challenge, not really. I believe in our team, there's nothing we can't adjust to."_

" _Right…" The girl eyed him carefully. It was the simplest of answers, yet the candor behind it seemed to hold so much more weight. "…Okay…. Last year you were beaten by Shiratorizawa Academy, for both Interhigh and the Spring Nationals," Minako ignored Oikawa's obvious forehead vein that popped irritably at the mention. "What do you think needs to be worked on in order to overcome that this year?"_

 _Oikawa frowned,_ _"We just need to get stronger, tighten up our defense and be more aggressive with our attacks, and work on utilizing our plays to overcome Ushiwaka's monstrous strength." His teeth grit._

" _Ushi…waka…?"_

" _Uh, Shiratorizawa, I mean."_

" _Um…okay. Any other teams that have caught your attention so far?"_

" _Hm…Johzenji has a strong first-year roster, I'm excited to hopefully play them this year. Date Tech should be interesting, too."_

" _Okay," Minako's hand moved swiftly across the page of her notebook. "Even though the year has just begun, you're already in consideration for becoming captain next year. What are your thoughts on that?"_

" _Oh, well," he chuckled softly. "I'm honored that the senpais trust me to lead the team after they leave. I'll do my best to bring out the best in them, and work harder myself so I don't bring them down."_

" _And what do you feel is your greatest weakness that you need to work on?"_

" _Weakness?" He ponders for moment, as if stumped, before giggling to himself. "Well, I have none."_

"… _Eh…?"_

" _I work to become better and eliminate those weaknesses," he said with a casual air of indifference. "It's what great players do."_

 _Minako fought the urge to fling her pen at him, before taking a deep breath and continuing, making a point to forget the strange look that overtook the boy_ _'s face._

 **Present**

But somehow, she couldn't forget that look. Not entirely.

The interview continued as such; a strange amalgamation of thoughtful and motivating words mixed in with the usual cockiness and ego-filled twaddle that she expected from a guy like him. And he was being completely honest—there didn't seem to be a shred of insincerity in any of his words. But her thoughts kept dancing around curiously. That one line, she remembered, did stand out to her.

" _I work to become better and eliminate those weaknesses."_

She didn't think much of it at the time, and he said it so casually that it just seemed like another overconfident statement. But she caught his eyes as those words left his mouth; despite the nonchalant tone it was conveyed in, his eyes visibly narrowed and hardened. Even a few moments after that question, as annoyed as Minako was, she couldn't help but notice the slight rigidity that encompassed Oikawa's toned form. His face had gone serious—almost scarily so—and his jaw was tight. It was an interesting sight, to say the least, as opposed to the usual cheeriness or smugness that he usually exhibited. She didn't doubt the credibility of his words, though she found that there was a lot more to them than what was presented on the surface. It triggered an inquisitiveness that she knew she would find hard to ignore. That all, however, soon evaporated as Minako continued with her questions, and suddenly Oikawa was back to the smiley, self-absorbed schmuck that he was.

' _What's up with this guy…'_ She was simultaneously aggravated and confounded by him. His entire personality seemed to contradict itself, but beyond that base thought Minako couldn't gather anything else. Granted, it had only been a handful of days since she actually met him, and she presumably had the whole next two years to continue being aggravated and confounded by him. The thought annoyed her, but she couldn't help but want to sate her curiosity…

"Writing about Oikawa-kun?"

Minako glanced up and saw Matsui slide over next to her, opening up her bento and peeking over her shoulders.

"The volleyball team," she corrected, "which includes Oikawa-san, yes."

Matsui giggled before taking a bite of her food, "So, what do you have so far?"

"Standard stuff," the writer muttered, penning down various notes and markings on the pages.

"What about _Oikawa-kun_ , though?"

Minako straightened out in her chair, "What about this guy are you so in love with?"

"Eh?" Matsui paused to give the other girl a confused stare, "I'm not _in love_ , but I mean, what's not to like?"

"Plenty."

"He's…really talented, kind to his fans, handsome…He works harder than any other athlete I've seen or known."

Minako furrowed her brows. She didn't doubt any of those words—even, begrudgingly, the handsome part—but she also doubted that her friend, and most of his fans, saw anything more beyond that. Though Minako couldn't say much of it, either; the few times she had interacted with him had shown that he's more infuriating than people think…on top of the strange way he acts and projects himself. Something just did not seem right, and Minako knew that beyond the surface lay far much more—for better or worse, though, she couldn't quite tell.

"He…he's kind of an ass, though. Full of himself, arrogant, self-absorbed…" Minako said absentmindedly.

"Well, to someone like you, sure," Matsui laughed in between mouthfuls of food. "But just observe him more carefully—I'm sure you'll see a lot of light underneath your veil of judgmental tendencies."

"Wow, Matsui, maybe you should take my place as a writer. And besides, what do you mean 'someone like me'?"

"I mean you have a habit of jumping to conclusions and seeing the worst in people," the girl chuckled, patting Minako affectionately on the back. "Give him a chance, I'm sure you'll find yourself being surprised."

"I did, and he didn't make a very good first impression," the dark-haired girl's mouth twisted into a frown, thinking back to the first interaction they had in the infirmary the previous week.

"People say the same thing about you, though with admittedly more, er, colorful words…"

Minako scoffed, "Touché."

Matsui grinned in victory, "Seriously, just…keep yourself open-minded. And don't hyper-analyze everything."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"I know you've already started—I can see it in your grumpy face."

"…"

"Oh!" Matsui leaned in close to the writer's face and scowled exaggeratedly, "And don't go falling in love, either. Girls already envy you—heck, _I_ envy you!—but that would just be the beginning of a witch-hunt."

Minako's face turned surly as she lightly smacked her friend away, " _I_ _'m_ the writer here, idiot, so why is it that you have the more hyper-active imagination?"

Matsui relented and held up her hands in defense, "Sorry, sorry. But…keep that in mind."

"Tch, honestly…"

The bell rung loudly, the lunch period coming to an end and students beginning to fill up the classroom. Minako packed away her barely-eaten bento and notebook and prepared to tackle the rest of the day whilst ignoring the wheels in her head turning from various thoughts and an endless supply of questions and officiousness.

…She only hated _whom_ it was all about.

Needless to say it was an unproductive afternoon—she didn't remember a single thing she had learned in any of her classes.

* * *

Minako yawned as she made her way to the school's newspaper club room the next day, after having spent the better part of the previous evening compiling, revising, and properly writing a semi-decent introduction article for the Aoba Johsai boys' volleyball team. She only resented that it was merely semi-decent, still feeling like a baby when it came to writing about sports, but she included as much info from the players themselves, and when it came to her own thoughts she wrote it as earnestly and honestly as she could. Perhaps it was more ballsy than she originally intended…but she would at the moment, however, leave all final judgments to Asana Tsuyo, who was waiting in the room that morning with a anticipatory grin on her face.

"Glad to see you're taking your new role so seriously, Sonozaki-san," she said happily.

"Well, what else can I do?" Minako shrugged and handed the assistant editor her copy of the article.

It had been around a week since Minako had received the ill-news of her creative writing column being cut, and subsequently being given the position as the new volleyball columnist. She had used the week to come to terms with that ghastly idea, despite a few reasons deterring her away from it…Her uncertainty, however, still lingered. She brushed off her thoughts as she focused on Asana, who began reading the article excitedly.

…

…

It was only a few minutes in when Minako noticed the fellow second year's face transition through a varying range of emotions, from excitement and contemplation to dismal and horrified. Minako didn't know whether she found it comical or concerning…

"What the…" Asana trailed off, eyes widening as her eyes continued down the article. "What…what is this?!"

Minako's breath bated, and she firmly reminded herself—as the assistant editor looked up at her, a mixture of furious disbelief and utter shock—that it was Asana's very words that told her to be herself in her writing. She decided, as much as she was sour about her new position, her essence was something she would not forsake; she would take this new, unwanted position, and place her mark on it regardless. In the end it was her words that would be published, to be read by many—there was no use in taking half-measures, or in being fake.

"It's my article," Minako stated tightly.

"I can see that!" Asana spat. She looked back at the papers incredulously.

"What's the problem? I thought you said I could add opinions? And that I shouldn't change anything? Be myself?" Minako tried hard to make herself come off as genuine, though she couldn't help the confrontation in her tone.

"That doesn't mean insult the star player!"

Minako blinked—so, the editor had gotten to her part about Oikawa…

"'Egregiously off-putting?!" Asana continued. "'Self-absorbed, cocky, arrogant, and an ego even larger than Japan itself?! Nothing more substantial than a pretty face?! How anyone puts up with him is a miracle in and of itself'?!" She stuttered in between sentences, her fingers curling into the papers with such intensity that the edges began to crumple.

"I'm saying things as it is," Minako replied simply, though she had to admit that perhaps her ire had gotten the better of her.

Asana stood up from her desk and opened her mouth to release her fury, but abruptly stopped and regained her composure. "This is NOT how a sports article is supposed to be written, Sonozaki-san! It's supposed to be _informative_ , not _defamatory_!" Asana took a deep breath and sat back down. "What is even more outlandish is that amidst all these… _opinions_ …you also added in that he cares about his team, he's a hard worker, he takes his sport seriously and has a drive and determination to be admired by all…Do you hate this guy or respect him?!"

"I respectfully hate him."

"Sonozaki-san!"

"Again, I'm saying things _as it is_ ," Minako sighed, wanting to flee the scene at the next possible moment.

Asana grumbled and rubbed her temples, "I appreciate your...audacity, Sonozaki-san; journalists need some measure of that. But you can't go around slandering players just because you don't favor them."

"It's not slander, Asana-san. It's _honesty_."

"Which I appreciate," Asana emphasized the word with constraint, "but there is a certain standard to be met, and this is crossing the line far too much."

Minako sighed heavily, "You can pull me off the column, I won't mind. I'm sure there are…better fits."

Asana looked at her, an air of surprise coloring her face. She sighed, "Despite the bumps, Sonozaki-san, this article is still good. You write with clarity, emotion, and earnest, and it's a good change of pace from simple, cold-hard facts and observations. I'll…have to edit this, of course, but aside from that everything is okay."

The dark-haired girl quirked her brow, "Really? Despite my grievances with… _him_."

"You're a good writer, Sonozaki-san, and I'd like to keep you and your talent with us. That, and it's either you or the slew of first years that only want the position _because_ of him." Asana starting penning down corrections and markings on the article. "Besides," she continued, "your grievances with _him_ are unwarranted. For someone that values honesty, you sure do jump to a lot of conclusions."

Minako bridled herself with a simple scowl, sourly noting how her words reminded her of Matsui's earlier.

"The article isn't very technical, either. That's okay for an introduction. But you'll need to start writing about the games itself soon, so I hope you're getting used to all the rules and such." Asana looked up her pointedly.

"I'm working on it…"

"And you have the entire team, as well as archived video footage, and the internet at your disposal. You should make use of them."

"Yes, ma'am."

Asana sighed, "You really have some nerve, don't you?" The question was more of a denouncement, though the playful tone it took informed Minako that she was still on good terms with the assistant editor.

"It's _all_ I have," Minako retorted.

"Well, let's utilize it more effectively, hm?" Asana waved the article in front of her face with a small smile. "Okay, head to class. I'll only make…necessary edits."

Minako gave a curt nod and bid the other girl farewell before heading off for the start of classes, pondering on her thoughts for a moment. She knew her article was ballsy, and a majority of her knew that there was no way Asana would give it the green-light without removing all those…remarks.

Yet still…she couldn't help but admit that writing them was strangely and blissfully therapeutic.

* * *

The bell rung, students sighing in relief as their mid-day lunch break came to start. Matsui waved a hasty goodbye to Minako as she dashed off to the art room to work on some of her individual projects, leaving Minako at her desk with her own lunch, alternating her glances between a blank sheet in her notebook and the volleyball starter that sat near her.

As Iwaizumi stood up, bento in hand, Minako hesitantly called out to him.

"Um, excuse me, Iwaizumi-san?"

The boy paused and turned around, giving the girl a questioning look.

"I was…I was wondering if you'd do me a favor now? I'm still trying to get a hold of all these rules and positions for volleyball…it's a bit much to take in, honestly," Minako said softly, looking away uneasily.

Iwaizumi's eyebrows arched slightly, "Oh, sure thing, Sonozaki-san." He made his way over and plopped himself down on a chair beside her, setting his lunch down on his lap. "What can I help with?"

"Um…" Minako tapped her pen against the desk. "Well…everything? Basic rules I think I got…so, I guess positions? And their importance?"

The spiky haired boy chuckled, "Uh, okay, no problem. Well, let's start off with—"

"Iwa-chan~!"

Minako jolted at the sound of the unpleasantly sweet voice that rung with familiar clarity throughout the room, quickly followed by hushed whispers and squeals from almost every girl in the vicinity.

"Oh, are we having lunch here?" Oikawa asked, walking over to the two of them.

"Mm, Sonozaki-san wanted some volleyball help."

"Oh, I can help too!" Oikawa grinned, holding up a peace sign, and pulling over a chair by Minako's desk and making himself comfortable.

Minako glowered up at the boy, who merely grinned in response.

"Why do you always look so angry, Sono-chan? You're going to get premature wrinkles," Oikawa shrugged as he opened up his bento. "By the way, your bruise is looking _much_ better."

"Eh…" Minako's hand instinctively went up to touch the discolored area of her face. She had spent the better part of the weekend with an ice-pack taped to her face, and the past few days have given time for the swelling to reduce. Her once blue and black bruise had started turning into a slight green as it underwent the slow process of its healing. Although the judgmental whispers about the incident had stopped, people's wild imaginations still, however, continued running alongside the idea that she and Oikawa had some sort of scandalous relationship going on. It was rather nonsensical, and infinitely infuriating. She figured that the bruise would remain for next week or so; a lovely reminder as to her seemingly perpetual dread.

"Shut up, Trashykawa, you're the one that gave it to her in the first place," Iwaizumi muttered.

"Why must you insult me in the process?!"

Minako held up her hands, "Just forget about it, please! Anyway…volleyball positions…?"

"Right," Iwazumi nodded towards Oikawa, "I was going to explain positions to her."

"Oh!" Oikawa's eyes lit up. "Well, I can start. The most important position is, of course, the setter."

Minako looked at the boy, an unimpressed veil over her face. "Of course. And you're the setter."

"Exactly!"

"So, what does the setter do then?"

"The setter, as the name suggests, is the person that set-ups the offense," Iwaizumi started. "His tosses allow for hitters to score points—so yes, it is technically the most important position for a team, but don't let Oikawa's gloats make you think he's more important than he actually is."

"Rude!"

Minako nodded her head, vigorously penning down the notes on her sheet of paper. "So…when the ball is on your side of the court, you're allowed three hits. The first two hits are the set-up, with the second hit being for the setter, and the third is the the scoring point?"

"Yep!" Oikawa beamed.

"But," Iwaizumi added, "You don't necessarily need to attack in three hits. Sometimes the first hit can go over the net, usually giving your opponent a chance ball. Or sometimes the second hit, usually done by the setter, can be used to push the ball over the net—called a dump."

"Oh…kay…" Minako continued jotting down her notes, fingers starting to cramp slightly and mind swimming underneath all the jargon being thrown at her.

"The ball can be hit by any player in any order, though—except you can't hit it twice in a row—so don't take these as firm rules," Iwaizumi explained. "It is the most common, though."

Oikawa chuckled and leaned forward, "But you'll get used to all of it the more you watch, so just keep watching me, okay?"

Both Minako and Iwaizumi grimaced, before the latter cleared his throat.

"Back to positions…"

"And the second most important position is the ace!" Oikawa interrupted.

"Oi, that's hardly a position," Iwaizumi muttered, smacking the setter lightly on the head.

Minako watched the two's lighthearted interaction and couldn't help the amused expression on her face. She cleared her throat and continued, "So…what's the ace? Shouldn't he technically be the most important player? It's called 'ace' after all…"

Iwaizumi gave her a slight, sheepish smile, "Ace isn't a position, just simply a title. Usually for the strongest offensive player—"

"—And that's our Iwa-chan!"

Iwaizumi shot Oikawa an aggravated glare before turning back to Minako, "And that's all to it, really. Don't get that confused with 'service ace', which just means a serve that lands without getting hit properly by the opponent."

"Oh…okay…?" Minako's notes looked like a discombobulated mess, trying to keep the main focus on points about positions but adding in between margins and to the side all the other terms being thrown at her. It felt like she was learning an entirely new language.

"Ehh…Sono-chan," Oikawa leaned towards her, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, and poked her gently on the forehead. "Are you confused already? I thought you were a quick learner?"

Minako scowled and swatted Oikawa's hand away. He laughed heartily before taking a bite of his food.

"After setter, we have our wing spikers—which sounds exactly as it is; spikers at the wings of the offensive zone. They usually attack the ball after the setter tosses it to them," Iwaizumi continued, ignoring Oikawa's annoyances. "Though they can play from the back row as well. Wing spikers are usually well-rounded, since they handle all means of plays—attacking, passing, blocking, serving, and the lot."

"Oh…wow, okay." Minako continued her scribbles.

"For reference, Iwa-chan is one of our wing spikers. Aces usually are," Oikawa gave Iwaizumi a jubilant pat on the back, who grunted in response. "Then there's middle blocker. Those guys are, well, blockers and are needed to stop the other team's offense. They usually form a wall in the front row to stop the ball, like this," Oikawa flailed his hands in front of him, a poor demonstration of his explanation, which did absolutely nothing to aid Minako in her understanding.

Iwaizumi sighed exasperatedly and continued, "Middle blockers usually don't spend time in the back row, unless they're serving or right after they serve and are receiving. Their specialty is blocking the ball as soon as it's attacked by the other team, rather than back row defense. When the rotation moves them to the back, they're usually switched out and replaced by the libero."

"Okay…front row…blocking…back row defense…after serve…libero…okay," Minako nodded her head, motioning for the boys to continue.

"The libero is the strongest defensive player on the team, and usually the smallest, too," Oikawa started. "They're back row players that are responsible for receives, from the opposing servers especially, and passing."

"They can only remain in the back row?" Minako queried.

"Mhm," Iwaizumi nodded his head, "and they're not allowed to serve, usually. Standard rules. Because they're back court specialists, they replace middle blockers when the middle blockers rotate to the back. And, when the libero rotates to the front, the middle blockers come in and replace them."

"Liberos are quick and have great reflexes, and you can tell who they are because they wear a different colored jersey," Oikawa added.

"And those are essentially the main positions. There's also pinch servers, but those are just guys that have strong serves and are usually added in to change the momentum of a game."

" _Pinch_ server, makes sense." Minako nodded. Her hands were starting to ache from the way her pen pressed aggressively onto the paper as the two boys made their explanations. In the end, everything they explained about the positions made sense, yet it still made Minako's head swim. There really was more to volleyball than just…well, hitting a ball over the net (though that was the primary objective, she reminded herself, despite the nitty gritty).

"But just to clarify," Iwaizumi mentioned, "in terms of positions, nothing is really set in stone—it's hard to do so with a rotating system. The aim, obviously, is to score points, so the challenge lies with being able to set up your plays to maximize the best use of the players in the current rotation against the opponents."

"Wow…nice."

"Got it?" Oikawa looked at her, a mixture of pride and smugness.

The girl ignored the urge to slap the expression off his face, "Yes, I think so…"

"Don't worry too much about the details," Iwaizumi added lightly, leaning back in his chair and smiling. "The more games you watch the more you'll pick up on it."

Minako inclined her head towards the calm wing spiker, "Thank you, Iwaizumi-san."

"Anytime."

"Hey, what about me?!" Oikawa's voice rose in indignation.

Minako turned to him and narrowed her eyes, "Yes, you too, _Oikawa-san_."

The smug visage appeared again and formed into a sly grin, "So remember, just watch me and you'll learn in no time, okay?"

The writer arched a brow, "Eh, why should I watch you when I could be watching the ace? He _is_ , after all, the strongest offensive player, no?"

Oikawa gripped the edges of her desk, mouth twitching irritably, "I-I'm strong, too! Iwa-chan is good, but I'm on a completely different level!"

"Oi," Iwaizumi turned to the setter, his demeanor suddenly firing up and shooting the boy a dark glower.

"Besides," Minako continued, over-exaggerating her nonchalance and shrugging her shoulders. She was poking the bear, and she knew it. But the words just came out, like a bad case of food poisoning…It was hard to hold back. "How can you consider yourself a stronger player when you couldn't even control your serve enough to not hit a bystander off-court?"

"Wh-what…?!" Oikawa seethed, jolting off his seat and pointing a shaky finger at her furiously. "Some nerve you have saying that when you don't know anything about the game…! You…all you do is write words on a piece of paper!"

"What?!" Minako's face burned as she pushed her chair back and stood off with the setter. "Writing requires just as much finesse as running around a court hitting a ball, you ingrate!"

The handful of occupants remaining in the classroom had gotten deathly silent, and an acerbic stillness had enveloped the area. Girls gawked with eyes as wide as dinner plate, and the boys looked like they had just struck a gold mine, grinning wildly at the two bickering teenagers. Iwaizumi simply sighed.

"Maybe you should pull that pen out of your butt and you won't look like you're sucking on a lemon all the time!"

"Y-Y-You asshole! All you are is gassed-up jock and a pretty face and no substance! I bet if your fangirls actually talked to you for more than a few seconds, they would _lose_ brain cells!"

"Oh?" Oikawa's eyes darkened shrewdly and he shot her a wicked grin. "So you think I'm pretty?"

Minako's face felt like burst into flames, her eyes blazing with red-hot hysteria, "You useless, arrogant, son of a bi—!"

"Okay, okay. Enough, you two," Iwaizumi, after a long pause and deciding that it was in everyone's best interest to halt the two teenagers' verbal wrestling match, stood up from his seat and in between the two. He pushed Oikawa away with a slight shove on the chest, and turned to Minako to place a hand on her shoulder gently. "Oikawa's a real shitty guy—"

"Why are you insulting _me?_!"

"—but don't let him grate your nerves," Iwaizumi finished, throwing the girl a sympathetic look.

The bell rang, offering some solace to the suffocation that engulfed the room, and kids slowly started trickling back to their designated areas and seats. Oikawa and Minako remained a few more moments, glowering heatedly at one another and breathing heavily, before Oikawa huffed and stuck his chin in air.

"I'll see you at practice, Iwa-chan," Oikawa nodded in Iwaizumi's direction before giving one final glare to the girl. "See you later, _Sono-chan._ "

"See you later, _Oikawa-san_ ," Minako snarled back.

Iwaizumi sighed as he shooed his friend out the door and made his back to his own seat, glancing at the girl dubiously. "If he annoys you that easily, you're going to have one hell of a time being our regular columnist."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," the girl sat back in her seat harshly and placed her notebook into her bag while pulling out another, smaller, worn-out notebook.

It was her personal journal, though one she had admittedly disregarded for quite some time. Personal journal entries were scarce, but she used it usually whenever she needed to vent or get something dire off her chest.

…And, for some more other...childish tendencies.

She opened up to the most recent blank page and shoved her pen down, applying excessive force and forming in harsh, all-capital letters:

OIKAWA TOORU IS A GLORIFIED ASSHAT.

Therapeutic, she thought, but short-lived. Minako breathed a calming breath, ignoring the few seconds of her revert back to elementary-school immaturity. She closed the book, shoving it back into her bag and shutting her eyes for a moment to collect herself.

' _Honesty…is the best policy…Honesty…_

…

 _I honestly hate that no-good, insolent jerkwad._ _'_

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, welcome to Volleyball 101, where a basketball fan tries to explain volleyball. Fun fact: I had contemplated making this a Kuroko No Basuke fic, simply because I know _so much_ more on basketball than volleyball. But I love Oikawa way too much, and I had this story idea with him in mind. Also, funnily enough, I played volleyball all throughout elementary and middle school (albeit not very seriously, and I wasn't all that good), but I don't recall actually formally learning any of the rules or terminology...**

 **Anyway, hope you all enjoyed it. I enjoyed having two people throwing immature insults at each other. I intended for this chapter to come out earlier, but I got hit with sickness. The whole family did. T'was fun. And it might be some time before the next chapter; I have _a lot_ of edits and rewrites that need to be done. And on top of some other writing projects I'm working on, real life shenanigans, and potential travel plans, I may have to slow things down a tad bit so I don't go crazy. **

**Thanks to all the new folks who followed and favorited. And a BIG thanks to jungkookies, Lady Syndra, AstarteLuna, curlystruggle, and showichi for the lovely reviews! You're all seriously awesome. I'm glad people are taking a liking to Minako. She has her flaws, but she's fun :)**


	4. Those of Decent Company

**Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Those of Decent Company**

"Why is there already so much work to do?" A loud groan followed an exasperated voice.

"Hm."

"I can't believe it's already been one month."

"Hm."

"…"

It was a pleasant day outside as the rays of the sun gently enveloped the area in its warm light. The wind rustled pages of a notebook, as the sounds of scribbles echoed alongside the rustling of leaves, the chirps of birds, and the light chatter of other students in the vicinity.

"So…are you going to the practice match today?"

"Hm?"

"…The practice match? Seijoh and Oomisaki."

"Oh."

"Shouldn't you write about it?"

"If I must…"

"…Don't tell me you and Oikawa-kun are still mad at each other."

Minako looked up from her notebook to see her friend staring at her curiously.

It really had been a month, she thought dazedly, since school had began and life had taken a nose dive into completely foreign territory. Aoba Johsai had suddenly hunkered down into work mode, and the days passed by in an instantaneous blur.

It felt like such a lifetime ago, Minako wondered as her thoughts went back to Oikawa and the days following their verbal sparring match. Though they were initially met with sour looks and sneers every time they passed by each other, Minako found it easy enough to let it go after some time and continue on with her day. And even that eventually fizzled away to simple ignorance. It seemed as if both teenagers had subconsciously decided to settle their grievances by preoccupying themselves with their respective tasks, which meant little interaction. And as the days went by, it seemed that life and all its responsibilities took a higher priority, and the collective mentality of the student body reflected it. With school work itself, on top of the extra curriculars she and the rest of the students were involved in, suddenly no one had the time to worry about menial gossip that floated around the school. The whispers never quite ceased, and the endless speculation of the nature of Minako and Oikawa's relationship annoyingly persisted, though its frequency was minimal at best. The student body would latch onto any news they heard, no doubt, like hungry remora fish—sucking on anything in order to obtain some sustenance. Did that make her the shark?

So life continued on. Even in the considerably short period since the school year began. Sports teams began their training in earnest, including the volleyball team, as Interhigh prelims started to inch ever closer. Oikawa's focus was iron, as was the rest of the team's. It admittedly motivated Minako, as she started spending more and more time in the newspaper club room, doing her due diligence and watching old videos to familiarize herself even more with the game. It was getting much easier to follow along, and she was beginning to pick up on small nuances throughout the matches. And applying the small bits of knowledge given to her by Oikawa and Iwaizumi, everything was piecing together slowly. Things started to make sense, and a part of her—she would admit with great difficulty and obvious displeasure—was actually beginning to enjoy it. There was a definite thrill to watching these games and the anticipation that came along with it was a certain, interesting kind of adrenaline.

"Sonozaki-chan?"

"Hm?" Minako jerked at the voice, startled out of her thoughts.

"…The practice match?"

"Oh, right," Minako shifted in her position on the grass outside where she and Matsui had settled for lunch. "I suppose I should. Good practice for me, I guess."

"Mhmm," Matsui waved the latest edition of the school paper in her hands. "And write like you did for this article, it was really good."

"Ah, thanks," Minako smiled softly.

"And tomorrow," Matsui grinned, "we'll go to a cafe and get cake as a celebration of your first publication in the school paper for the boys' volleyball team! My treat!"

"Sounds good, Matsui," Minako chuckled and stood as the bell rung loudly, "But first, I need to get through this practice match."

It would be the first match seen live, she thought, and she figured it would be a good way to help her start writing on actual games. A part of her was looking forward to seeing an actual match live, though it was soured by the accompanying irritation of _who_ would be playing, as well as the annoying fans that came along with it.

"Ah, don't worry about that. Everyone will be too focused on Oikawa-kun to even notice you, even Oikawa-kun himself," Matsui grinned.

"I suppose."

"Unless you want him to notice you…?" Matsui's grin turned sly.

"Absolutely not."

The boisterous girl laughed heartily, "You're far too serious, Sonozaki-chan. You should lighten up a bit."

A the two girls walked back to class, Minako read over her newly published article in the paper, smiling proudly. As…unhappy as she had been when given this new position, she had to agree that she was starting to take it more seriously. And consequently she found out that by giving volleyball a chance, she was starting to like it. Though she was a far cry away from being an enthused fan, she didn't quite view her predicament as such anymore. It was a refreshing feeling, and reading her published work only invigorated that sense. The rest of the day continued, pleasantly, with a small smile gracing her face.

* * *

The gymnasium had filled considerably. Much of the student body had congregated to the sidelines and upper stands, securing themselves a proper vantage point to finally get to watch the Seijoh team in a practice match and to see the dynamic of the new members, as well as observe how the old ones had improved. Excited chatter mingled with the sounds of the players practicing, blanketing the entire building in a vibrant atmosphere. The chatter only got more energetic as the players started lining up and getting into position; girls started cheering excitedly as Oikawa made way to his spot.

Minako chewed the inside of her lip, fiddling with the notebook and pen in her hands, as she leaned over the upper railings and looked down. Matsui, beside her, bounced excitedly.

"Say," Matsui started as the game commenced, "do you still keep in contact with that guy from middle school?"

"Which guy?"

"You mean there were multiple?"

Minako rolled her eyes, "There were hundreds of guys in our middle school, Matsui."

"And as far as I know," she eyed her pointedly, "you were only friends with one."

Minako sighed, "No…I don't keep in touch with him."

"Why not?"

"We seldom hung out after…you know." Minako fiddled with the pen in her hands. "Then we went to different high schools."

"Which one did he go to, again?"

"Karasuno."

"Does he still play volleyball?"

Minako shrugged, "I'd assume so."

"What was his name again…?" Matsui looked up thoughtfully, placing her finger on her lip.

"You really don't remember the name of the only other friend I had in middle school?"

"Sorry! You know I was too busy loving Kondo-kun."

"Obsessively so, yes I remember."

Minako gave her friend a curious glance, wondering why all of a sudden she was mentioning this. But her thoughts suddenly drifted as she recalled her friendship with the quiet, sweet boy and wondered—hoped, in fact—that he did still play volleyball. She pondered if she would meet with him again soon.

"Anyway, maybe you'll meet with him when you go to the tournaments? Or maybe Karasuno will have a practice match with Seijoh?" Matsui smiled at the writer.

"Why should it matter if I meet with him again?"

The girl groaned, "Aish, Sonozaki-chan, why are you such a grump?!" She playfully shoved Minako's shoulder.

Minako sighed, "We messaged each other a few times last year, but that's about it."

"Well, you should talk to him again. He could be some help with all this volleyball stuff."

"I don't really think I need _help_ …besides, I have the entire Seijoh team for that—why should I go out of my way to reach out to him all the way in Karasuno?" the girl gave her copper-haired friend a quirk of the brow.

"I mean, if you _want_ to get close with Oikawa-kun…that's totally fine, too." Matsui grinned teasingly.

"Ugh, please stop."

"Speaking of Oikawa-kun…"

The two turned their heads back to the game, well into the first set. Seijoh was in the lead, but not by much, as Oikawa walked to his position to serve. Girls started screaming and cheering excitedly. Minako leaned further forward.

He looked as calm and collected as ever, even smiling gently as he twirled the ball in his hands. His demeanor was so nonchalant, walking with a gentle swagger as if he was taking a leisurely walk along the beach. Even as he settled into position, his attitude screamed of serenity, almost mockingly. His eyes surveyed the court and that small smile on his face never faltered. He was a general leading his army into a sure victory. She felt his eyes zero in on its target as he tossed the ball into the air and ran forward. He lunged upwards, almost seeming to float for a second. It looked completely natural, and gracefully so, till his hand shot down like a missile and slammed over the ball. With blinding speed and unfathomable power, the ball soared to the other side, through the other team's defense, hitting the ground with a thunderous clap that reverberated throughout the entirety of the gymnasium, and bounced up to the upper stands.

Silence. For what seemed like a stretch of hours was only a mere second, as the entire building stood awestruck.

Minako's eyes widened. The girl beside her whistled impressively, and the entire gymnasium burst into a cacophonous mix of cheers and applauds, echoing through the building deafeningly.

"What the…—"

Matsui grasped onto Minako's arm tightly, "Holy CRAP, Oikawa-kun is so cool! How the hell did you survive _that_ serve, Sonozaki-chan?! How do you still have a face?!"

Minako frowned, the still-fading bruise on her face throbbing slightly. She had conceded by allowing herself to acknowledge Oikawa's strength and prowess when it came to the sport, but this was beyond her imagining; he was the force of all forces to be reckoned with. How _did_ she survive such a serve?

"Yeah, Oikawa-san certainly is…something…" Minako turned to her notebook, jotting down a few sentences.

The game continued smoothly. Minako picked up a few plays here and there, running through the terms and rules in her head like a strict, play-by-play code. Oomisaki High School was strong, and didn't make the fight easy for their opponent, but Seijoh still managed to come out on top, taking the two sets. The crowd went nuts as the team celebrated, and the writer nodded her head in approval.

"Wow~! To think, this was only a practice match!" Matsui giggled.

"Yeah, they're no joke," Minako agreed, picking up her book bag and starting to make her way down with Matsui in tow.

"Going to get some interviews?"

"Just a few words from the captain."

"Not Oikawa-kun? Girls will looooove that."

Minako sighed, "Girls need to realize that there's more to the team than Oikawa-san." And she firmly stood by that statement; as prized of a player that Oikawa was, during the game she realized why Iwaizumi was regarded as the ace. His strength and power eclipsed Oikawa, but the two worked in perfect synergy. But the setter-ace duo were also supported by an amazing cast of powerful players, each playing at their strengths and adding to the dynamic of their cohesive teamwork. A hint of pride started blooming in Minako when she realized that she got to write for such a powerhouse of a school. It was a strange feeling, she thought, but she didn't shy away from it.

"Okay…well, I'll head home then. Cafe tomorrow?" Matsui asked.

Minako nodded with a smile and waved goodbye to her friend, before heading downstairs to the gym floor where all the boys were chatting and gathering their things. She walked up to the captain, Otsuka Naoto, who had just finished his final words and encouragements to the team.

He smiled when she approached, "Hey, Sonozaki-san. What can I do for you?"

"Great game," she mentioned amiably. "Just wanted a few words for the paper, maybe?"

"Sure thing."

The girl opened up her notebook and looked up at him, "Thoughts on the new team? Strengths and weaknesses, and what to expect for the Interhigh prelims?"

"Well," Otsuka started, placing his hands on his hips. "We have a solid team this year. Our defense has improved, and we have a solid offense. Our strength lies in our setter, really, and his ability to bring out the best abilities of others. We just have to solidify that strength and utilize it as best we can. Work on tightening up our defensive plays, practice more, and I know we should be able to make it to Interhigh."

Minako nodded, writing his words in her notebook and inwardly groaning at the mention of their setter being the strength; despite the overall strength and talent of the entirety of the team, it was still Oikawa that tied everyone together. Her inward groan only amplified when she realized how true the captain's words really were—she couldn't deny what she had just witnessed only moments ago.

"Thanks, Otsuka-san," Minako threw him a friendly smile.

"Oh by the way, great article today. Glad to have you on the team." Otsuka grinned.

Pleasantly taken aback, the girl smiled shyly, "Oh, thank you." She pushed a lock of black hair behind her ear, and with a final nod the two separated. Before Minako could head out, however, a voice called out to her.

"Yahoo, Sono-chan!" Oikawa waved over to her, grinning wide. "Want a few words from me?"

"No, thanks," she replied simply, putting her notebook away, ignoring the zealous whispers and gasps from the few remaining females in the area.

"Eh?"

Minako gave the boy a tired look, "I've got what I needed."

Oikawa pouted but still walked over to her, "By the way, nice article today."

"Um, thanks."

"You talked about Otsuka-senpai too much, though."

"…He's the captain."

"Do you like him?"

"He's the captain!" Minako huffed, frowning at the setter. "Anyway, I got what I needed….thanks." She took note at the pleasantry exhibited by the teenager. This was the first time since that eventful lunch period where she and Oikawa had been in the same vicinity without either making crude faces at each other or ignoring each other completely, let alone chatting normally. Though it didn't feel as strange as she expected, and he seemed to have gotten over it easy enough.

"Okay, well do you still need help with anything?" He asked, a seemingly innocent air to his question.

Minako raised her brow, staring suspiciously at the boy, looking for any signs of ill-intent. "Um…I think I'm getting the hang of it, actually. But…I'm still having a hard time with some terms…"

"Okay, want some help?"

Minako gave the boy a strange look, "I think I can handle it…thanks."

Oikawa frowned, "It'll be easier if you had someone explain them to you."

"I'm okay, I'll ask Iwaizumi-san if anything."

The corners of Oikawa's frown pulled down deeper, "Fine, whatever."

Minako grimaced at the tone of his voice but entertained it no further. She took a final glace around the court and paused. None of the boys were getting ready to leave. And neither was Oikawa."

"You're not heading home?" she asked suddenly.

Oikawa looked at her blankly, "No."

"But…it's the evening."

"Yeah? I have to practice."

"But…you just had a game." Minako eyes trailed Oikawa's face. Despite the beads of sweat coating the entirety of his body and the clear lines of exhaustion plaguing the setter, his face looked as serene and collected as it was when the game first began.

"Your…point?"

"Um…never mind. See you later, I guess." The girl adjusted the strap of her bag before turning around, sparing the the boy a few quick glances behind her shoulder.

"Bye bye," he waved casually to her and turned back around to the few others that stuck around.

The dedication to his craft was admirable, to say the least, though a big part of her wondered why someone as cocksure and confident as he was felt the need to have _that_ amount of dedication. Minako brushed off her thoughts as she made her way home in the cool evening air.

She entered her house, giving a quick greeting to her father, who just seemed to have gotten home as well, before heading up to her room. She pulled out the copy of the school paper she had and flipped to her article, proudly staring down at it. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a quick picture of it and sent it to her brother. She pushed it aside after and pulled out her journal, flipping it to her last entry—not so much an entry as it was seconds of momentary degradation—and rolled her eyes.

While it was true, she agreed, that Oikawa Tooru was indeed a glorified asshat, there were many moments—such as today, for example—that made it seem that perhaps that wasn't _all_ that he was. If decent people like Iwaizumi could put up with him, and more than just a teammate, then there had to be some good that came from him. Minako thought of the words spoken to her by Matsui and Asana—give Oikawa a chance, her grievances were unwarranted, don't jump to conclusions.

Perhaps it was something to keep in mind.

* * *

Minako took a bite of her lunch as she stared at the screen in front of her, tapping the pen in her other hand against her notebook. The computer room that next day during lunch was quieter than normal. The only noises came from the soft volume of the videos she was playing and her endless fidgeting.

The more matches she watched, the more in awe she would get. These boys _flew_ , and yet with their elegant glides and fluidity over the court also came an indomitable display of strength and precision. Was this why people enjoyed playing volleyball? Enjoyed watching it? More than that, Minako found herself pausing during several moments and zooming in on players' faces; to see such vivid and colorful expressions was, for a lack of a better word, inspiring—and she found that she spent more time writing down descriptions of these facial expressions than the actual technical parts of the game itself.

"We're pretty good, no?"

Minako jolted in her seat, glancing up at the voice that interrupted her thoughts. Oikawa grinned down at her before pulling up a chair and peering at the computer screen in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed fiercely.

The setter sighed, "I told you, if you are going to learn about the game it's easier if someone who actually _plays_ helps with explanations."

Minako scowled, "I said I'm fine, why do you even care?"

He waved his hand absentmindedly, "You're writing for us in the paper, so I need to make sure you write accurately and well."

"And why do _you_ have to?" Minako's brow lifted pointedly.

"Just relax, okay?"

"How did you even know I was here?"

"Your friend told me," he shrugged.

 _'Curse you, Matsui_ ,' Minako thought sourly. ' _You and your shoujo fantasies.'_

"Oh~, that was a good match," he pointed to the screen, where the writer was previously watching last year's Interhigh prelims.

Minako sighed, giving in to what she knew was a losing battle, and turned back to the screen. "Your third years then were really strong."

"Mhm, and so were the first years, no?" Oikawa leaned in closer to her and winked.

The girl rolled her eyes, "Yes, Iwaizumi-san really was strong."

"So mean!" The boy pouted and tried to peek over the girl's hands which were delicately placed over her notebook, but Minako lightly pushed him away.

"By the way, Sono-chan," Oikawa continued, "why were you zoomed into people's faces before?"

The pen tapping against her notebook halted and the girl hastily gathered it closer to her. Oikawa didn't miss this action as his eyes starting peering curiously over to catch a glimpse of the mysteries contained in those pages.

"It's…nothing…I thought I saw something, that's all…" Minako stuttered, waving her hand dismissively.

Oikawa raised a brow bemusedly before chuckling and looking back at the screen as the game continued.

The two watched for a few minutes, silently, as Minako penned down a few words here and there. Oikawa gazed at the screen thoughtfully, nodding his head slightly from time to time. Most of the lunch period was spent as such; watching the games intently, slowly eating their food, and interjecting here and there to say a few points or to ask questions.

…

"I thought liberos were only back-court specialists?"

"They are; but what happened there was that the libero jumped from the back line and tossed the ball mid-air—so it still counts as a back-court play."

"Oh, wow—bending the system. I like it."

Oikawa chuckled, "It's a tougher play to execute. Our first year libero, Watacchi, used to be a setter and is actually pretty good at it."

Minako nodded, writing down Oikawa's words before turning her attention back to the screen.

…

"See, now that's what a dump is. I could've just tossed the ball to someone, but instead I 'dumped' it over the net."

"Oh, okay okay."

…

"That serve looked different, and the receive was poor…"

"Mm, those are float serves, pretty difficult to do. The ball is given no spin, so you can't really tell what path it'll take, making receiving them really difficult."

"Can you do those?"

The boy grinned sheepishly, "Not my specialty, but if I need to I can. Vice-captain, Sakai-senpai, is pretty good at them."

…

"That was…a feint, right?"

"Mhm, you catch on quickly, Sono-chan."

"I told you I'm a quick learner."

"Makki tends to use a lot of feints."

"I thought Matsukawa-san was the one…?"

"Nope, Mattsun is the one with the intimidating blocks."

…

"Do you mind if we watch this one next?" Minako asked slowly after their current video finished. She held up a CD case, on it labeled in faded black ink 'Seijoh vs. Shiratorizawa - Interhigh Prelims'.

Oikawa froze and his jaw tightened, "I guess…"

Minako spared him her scrutiny. She asked him out of courtesy, knowing it may be a sore spot since Shiratorizawa was the one school they never beat, but his expression said more than she expected.

"We don't have to…"

"It's fine!" he motioned dramatically, letting out an exaggerated huff and running a hand through his hair. "We have to play them again for prelims, I'm sure—might as well remind myself of what monsters they are…"

"Ok…ay…" the girl inserted the disk into the player and watched the screen intently as the game started, pausing only for a few moments to turn and catch a glimpse of Oikawa's face.

He wasn't happy—yet he wasn't exactly upset either. He looked like he was concentrating, almost as if he were repeating a obstinate mantra in his head. His eyes were stone. It was so strange to see the normally smiley and annoyingly genial boy turn so austere.

Looking back at the screen, the girl concentrated on the game as the video continued playing. Minako could easily tell why it was that Shiratorizawa was able to make it to nationals every time—hadn't they won one year, too?; they were _strong_. A high-powered engine in a well-oiled machine, and utterly merciless. Minako took a particular note of one player—Ushijima Wakatoshi; well-built, powerful spikes, quick reflexes, good all-around player—his power alone seemed to mask the entirety of Seijoh itself, and he was only a first year at the time. Minako shuddered at the thought of how he would be now, or what he'd be like next year and the years following. The two continued watching the match silently; no one said a word or added any notes. They watched as Shiratorizawa took both sets—though Seijoh didn't make it easy for them— winning them their spot for nationals. Seijoh dejectedly left the court, disappointment eclipsing the weariness in their bodies. The video faded to black, and the room remained silent for a few minutes.

Ushijima Wakatoshi. _'Ushi…waka…this was the guy that Oikawa-san mentioned during our first interview…'_

Glancing back at Oikawa here and there, she winced at the firmness in his eyes and the acerbic grimace pulling at his mouth. His disposition spoke volumes, arms crossed over his chest and form rigid. He eyed the screen as if it was his own personal poison.

"Just because…" Minako started carefully, "Ushijima-san beat you at the Interhigh prelims last year—"

"—and the Spring Nationals prelims. And every single year in middle school."

"—doesn't mean you won't ever beat him," she finished tightly, not missing the serious edge in Oikawa's tone. His expression didn't change, and Minako felt a sudden twinge of sympathy, realizing how much of a wall this Ushijima fellow must have been for him. To be constantly shut down like that, year after year, must have been demoralizing; no wonder Oikawa worked so hard and dedicated himself as much as he did.

Oikawa glanced towards the girl, his features softening for a moment, before sighing. "Ushiwaka was born to play volleyball; peak physical condition and unmatched strength and technique—he's a special kind of genius."

"And you're not? Considering your prowess on the court?"

A mirthless chuckle, laced with an age-old bitterness, escaped the setter's lips, "I am no genius."

Minako raised a brow, searching the boy's scathing eyes. His intensity cut across the room and Minako could feel its icy talons piercing into her.

"So, all the more reason to fight harder…" she whispered. "Don't let your failures define you."

The boy seemed to loosen up suddenly, whether or not it was due to the writer's words or not she would never know. The hard lines on Oikawa's face slowly smoothed out and his shoulders relaxed. His gaze returned back to it's normal, serene state, and he leaned onto the desk with his cheek on his palm, giving Minako an almost affectionate smile. She recoiled ever-so-slightly.

"Y'know, Sono-chan, it's actually quite nice spending time with you."

"Eh?"

"I mean," Oikawa continued nonchalantly with a small shrug, "when you're not being so unpleasantly crass."

" _Crass_?" Minako's eyes widened incredulously.

"Mhm," the setter nodded his head, sitting up straight and patting the girl on the shoulder. "You should try being nice more often."

"I don't think an arrogant, narcissistic knave like you should be speaking about being _nice_ ," she spat back.

"See, there you go again, being all mean and using unnecessarily big words."

Minako bristled but held in her anger in fear of getting kicked out by the supervisor. "You're really infuriating, you know that?!" she hissed.

Oikawa chuckled convivially, looking pleased with himself.

"Why are you helping me anyway?" Minako furrowed her brows, crossing her arms over her chest.

They boy blinked, giving a slight cant to his head, before shrugging noncommittally. "I figured it's the least I can do for malforming your face like that."

The girl's hand flew to her face instinctively, gingerly rubbing the slowly-fading bruise that still desperately lingered. "It's just a bruise! Sheesh…" She shot Oikawa a dirty look, and he merely returned it with a closed-eyed smile.

Oikawa leaned forward, "Okay, then how about this? In return for helping you out—"

"—You just said it was repayment for the bruise."

"Just here me out, yeah?"

"And I never asked for your help."

"Sono-chan!"

"Fine, what?"

Oikawa cleared his throat, "In return for providing my excellent services as a knowledgeable, handsome volleyball expert—"

Minako rolled her eyes and Oikawa shot her a frustrated glare, but she allowed him to continue.

"—you'll let me see what you wrote in that notebook before I came in."

"Absolutely not," the girl shook her head vigorously.

"Oh, come on, please?" the brown-haired teenager clasped his hands together pleadingly.

"No."

"Why are you so stringy?"

"It's _my_ notebook!" Minako scoffed, "And you have no business with it."

Oikawa pouted pettily before gleaning her keenly. He leaned forward even more, reaching out towards the girl's head, and his hand clasped her dark, ponytail-ed hair and tugged it down with sudden force.

"Ah—!" The girl grasped onto her head, pushing away his obtrusive hand.

Oikawa, with the speed and reflexes of the lithe athlete he was, reached over and snatched the notebook Minako kept close to her on the table, flipping it a few pages back.

"You…asshole…!" she lurched forward, futilely, trying to retrieve her notebook.

"Just…let me read it…!" Oikawa peered at the words she had written while simultaneously keeping the girl's weak attempts at bay.

Minako growled, about to lunge forward aggressively, but paused when she saw the genuine curiosity and eagerness that filled the boy's eyes. She relented, crossing her arms over her chest, and slumped in her seat with a surly mug.

Oikawa's eyes carefully trailed over the page where she wrote all her player descriptions and expressions. A small smile would grace his lips once in a while before turning contemplative and nodding his head seriously. He looked back to Minako after a few minutes.

"You have quite the way with words, Sono-chan; this is really good." His voice was soft but earnest. It sounded odd, yet…pleasant.

"Thanks…" the girl muttered, grabbing back the notebook from Oikawa's extended hand.

"It's almost as if you were describing characters in a story."

"Well, sure…I'm a creative writer after all."

"Really?" Oikawa's brows arched.

"Mhm…"

"So what's a creative writer doing writing for the sports column?"

"Necessity," Minako shrugged. "And my creative writing column was cut from the paper."

"Creative writing column?"

"Yeah…I wrote one all last year."

"You mean… the Creative Corner?"

"Yeah, well—" the girl paused suddenly, giving Oikawa a curious glance. "—Wait, you knew of it?"

The setter scratched his chin, nodding, "Sure, I used to read it all the time."

The girl's eyes widened and she felt her face getting warm, "R-Really…?"

"Yeah, it was pretty good," he said it so simply, as if there was nothing to it, oblivious to the effects it had on the now flustered girl.

Blushing and feeling sheepish all of a sudden, Minako looked away from the boy. She knew her column had readers, and those readers expressed their liking for her work quite frequently; it wasn't just some obscure column that she wrote indignantly. Though she figured, especially with it getting cut, that it wasn't quite as popular as she may have once thought. She especially didn't expect a popular jock such as Oikawa to have even given that type of column any sort of attention. He didn't seem like the kind that read things for fun…though Minako admitted that was probably just another one of her judgmental, baseless notions.

"They were entertaining, but also quite deep. I remember there was one about an athlete, actually? A basketball player? And how he coped with emotional hardship, or something along those lines. Yeah…I thought it was good. You write well; it's as if I feel for the characters you created," Oikawa continued.

"That's called empathy."

"Mm, well, it was nice, I liked it. Sorry it got cut…"

"It's okay…and thanks." Minako spared Oikawa a grateful glance, and he smiled at her. She found her face getting warm again.

"That's kind of how you wrote your recent article, right?" He continued, inquisitively.

"My article?"

"Yeah, rather than stating things factually you wrote it with more…feeling. You described each word thoughtfully. Like a story," he motioned.

"I suppose, yeah," the girl titled her head as she considered his words. The words themselves didn't surprise her—but she found herself being surprised that the boy who was speaking them to her was the same one with whom she had exchanged verbal swings at a few weeks ago—who had viciously told her that all she did was put words on a paper (and to pull the pen out of her butt, but she chose to scathingly ignore _that_ particular one…), along with throwing each other childish looks and getting on each other's nerves. This new turn of events was a rather pleasant surprise.

"People told me to not change my writing, even though I'm writing for a different focus. So…I did that," Minako rubbed the back of her head awkwardly.

"That's good, I think it's a good way to go about it," Oikawa stared ahead thoughtfully. "I mean, better to explain things with more emotion, rather than facts. It reflects the players and the game more. In the end, you should focus on how the game makes you _feel_ …that's why people play, and watch, it in the first place."

The writer looked at the boy, fascinated not only by his thoughtfulness, but by his overall demeanor as well. It was a drastic shift from the heated rigidity he was displaying earlier. Oikawa certainly was…an enigma, she decided—just as she had decided when she first met him—and it only got more interesting. She smiled.

"I hope you remember that as well, Oikawa-san."

"Eh…huh?" Oikawa gave the girl a strange look, but she simply chuckled softly—a rare occurrence for the usually serious and blunt girl. He decided that he quite liked the sound of it.

"Never mind. Thanks for your help, Oikawa-san. You may be annoying, but your help is greatly appreciated."

"I beg to differ, but you're welcome," Oikawa grinned. "Just remember to give me lots of compliments."

A playful, knowing smile spread across the girl's face, "I told you, I don't write lies."

"You're a creative writer; all you _do_ is tell lies, no?"

The disbelief that struck Minako's face was delayed as she registered the setter's words, "H-How dare you, you…you asshole..!"

"You know—" a calm smirk tugged at Oikawa's lips as he stared at Minako, unperturbed, "—for a creative writer, your range of insults is quite sad."

"I'll…kill…you…!" The girl lunged forward as Oikawa guffawed, but was stopped short by the sound of the bell ringing.

Once again, it was a strange back and forth, as if the very balance of the universe hung on the premise that every serious moment between the two had to be stabilized by their regular childish antics and bounce-backs of immature insults. If was as if Minako didn't know whether or not they were actually friends or just simply opportunistic conveniences. Though her general agreeable-ness to his insistent intervention made her think that maybe his presence wasn't so unwelcome to her after all—she admitted that silently and with great struggle.

' _I'm giving him a chance, like everyone is saying I should. Granted…he makes me regret it half the time, but I'm still trying.'_

The two teenagers gathered their belongings and headed to class, walking in step with each other. The whispers suddenly flared like an old wound, and this time girls not only gawked with expressions of shock, but Minako was pretty sure half of them were staring at her while thoroughly orchestrating her death in their heads. Oikawa didn't seem to notice, as he hummed happily in the hallways. The two parted ways as they got to their respective classrooms, and Minako was immediately bombarded by Matsui's imposing form and the burning questions the writer could practically see in her wild eyes.

"Did you guys kiss?"

"No!" Minako growled.

"Made out?"

"Please use some logic."

"Well, the computer room isn't on fire, and Oikawa-kun seems to be in one piece, so _something_ must have happened…!"

"Yeah, no thanks to you!" she sighed. "We just watched volleyball videos and talked. He helped with terms and plays and stuff," Minako gave her friend an arched brow before making her way back to her seat, ignoring the indecent suggestion in Matsui's features.

Iwaizumi made it to class just before teacher did, and before settling down in his seat he gave the writer a surprised glance. "Oh, I'm surprised the computer room didn't explode."

She sighed, "I'm glad everyone has so much faith in my ability to impart maturity."

"Well," the wing spiker shrugged, "neither you nor Oikawa gave any of us the best of impressions, so our expectations are kind of low."

"Touché."

"Glad it went okay, though. It did go okay, I assume?"

"Yeah…" Minako thoughts went back to the instances—many, in fact—where she and Oikawa did have good conversation and she found that she…really did enjoy his company when he wasn't being an asshole. He was a smart, thoughtful individual, and it made it a pleasantly surprising task to easily converse with him. It was fleeting, though, she reminded herself firmly. "Oikawa-san, when not being a jackass, is actually fairly decent company," she reiterated aloud.

Iwaizumi chuckled and turned to face the teacher as she began speaking.

Despite his…decent moments, that short moment of bitterness and doubt displayed by the setter still rang vividly in the writer's head. It was artfully concealed, but Minako knew self-inflicted weakness and the burdens of insecurity when she saw it; she was no stranger to such notions. He was a curious guy, Oikawa Tooru. And it seemed like Minako was unwittingly throwing herself into the great unknown to figure out this guy despite her every mental protest. She wanted to listen to the briefest of reasons in her head telling her that she's being needlessly pushy—of her own curiosity, at least. There simply was no reason for her to be so…adamant. She _wanted_ to listen to reason…but it was so much easier to simply not. Mind over mind, she thought amusedly.

She was never good at listening, anyway.

* * *

 **A/N: Finally. Sheesh, I never thought this chapter would come out. Chapter 5 is gonna be even more...difficult. Anyway, sorry for the wait!**

 **I have started a wordpress where I post discussions/thoughts/updates/nonsense on each of my chapters for my fics. If you're interested in such rubbish, please do go check it out. It keeps me from having lengthy author's notes at the end of each chapter.**

 **anzunico on WordPress (link in my profile)**

 **Thanks to showichi, geneee, curlystruggle, Tora3, and Trainer Azurite for the kind reviews! And thanks to all those that favorited and followed!**


	5. The Start of all our Problems

**Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: The Start of all our Problems**

Minako stared at her plate, dismayed. The crumbs of her cheesecake lay there, cold and dismal, a reminder that the momentary dopamine surges in her brain urged her to have more… But the plate remained so woefully empty.

"Alas," she whispered dramatically. "Our time is over. Temptation beckons me like a siren on a cool evening, but I must deny. Oh, how I must deny…"

"You know, you could always just get more cake," Matsui piped up, unimpressed.

Minako shook her head and sighed, "No, I have to eat dinner later. My dad will be home."

The light chatter enveloping the cafe that the two girls had settled in had died down as the sun slowly began to set. Now, quieter, only a few remaining students lingered, bent over their textbooks and sipping lattes. Only a month had passed by but the unyielding submission to the academic gods had already begun.

Minako looked out the window, watching as the final rays of the setting sun cast an ethereal glow over the nearby buildings. The end of the day had come sooner than she expected, having most of her attention taken away from the…interesting lunch period she shared with the famed Seijoh setter. He had found more than one way to surprise her—and annoy her, she added—and the girl found herself truly fascinated. The writer in her took it as a challenge—a character study, if you will; _who_ was Oikawa Tooru? As fascinated and intrigued as she was, however, a big part of her couldn't help but realize she had fallen into a trap of Oikawa-dome and she groaned at the prospect of being lumped under the same umbrella as his obsessive fangirls. The way those crazed vultures looked at her nowadays, she wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even let her share their umbrella.

"So," Matsui pressed. "Are you sure nothing happened between you and Oikawa-kun this afternoon?"

"Yes."

"You _sure_?"

"Why are you so obsessed with him, Matsui?" Minako eyed the girl, tilting her head curiously.

"Well, to be honest, I'm not. Not really. But you can't deny that he's talented, hard-working, and good looking," Matsui shrugged calmly, leaning forward on the table and resting her face against her palm.

"No, I don't think anyone can deny that, but that's not all to him—you said so yourself."

"Oh," Matsui waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "So you're not denying that he's good-looking?"

Minako groaned, "That's not the point."

The copper-haired girl chuckled, "Okay, okay, yeah; there's a lot more to him than meets the eye, but obviously girls will only focus on what they see. I mean, it's not like any of them actually _know_ him, because none of them are actually friends with him. I fall under that boat—and I happily and willingly admit that I am shameless and only obsess over him due to those base, surface qualities of his."

"I appreciate your forthrightness," Minako responded dryly, though she couldn't help the smirk that tugged at her lips. "But…all this attention and needless coddling just get to his head. Don't you think he needs more than that?"

Matsui stared at the writer thoughtfully. "Well, of course. But in the end, he still works hard for himself and his team. I suppose it also doesn't hurt if his ego is stroked by a group of fanatics once every while."

"But I don't think it really helps. Like I said, he needs so much more," Minako sighed.

Matsui narrowed her eyes, "What happened at lunch between you two? What did you talk about?"

Minako's mind trailed back to the lunch period only a handful of hours ago. It was the image of his normally flippant and obnoxious self cascaded over by a rigidity of a hardened war veteran. Minako knew he was a hard worker, it didn't take very long for her to come to that conclusion, but the way he acted in those moments as he stared at the face his bitter rival—at the face of those that pushed him down time and time again—made her wonder where his motivations truly lied. Did he want to beat Shiratorizawa? Ushijima? Yes, of course.

But there was so much more. And Minako did not know where that instinct came from, but something inside her pulled curiously when the thought came up. A person that dedicated to beating a single team? A single person? There had to be more at stake. The writer was left wondering how personally Oikawa really took it all.

"Nothing," Minako settled.

Matsui scoffed, "You're the worst liar."

"Seriously, nothing. I just…don't really get him."

"I thought you hated him," Matsui sat up straight, arms crossing over her chest and brow arching pointedly.

"I do," the writer replied defensively. "But…don't you think there's more to him?"

"Do _you_?"

"Perhaps…"

"But weren't you the one who started judging him outright?"

Minako's lips pursed into a thin line, "Okay, I get it. I don't know, okay? I'm just…curious, is all."

Matsui grinned knowingly, "Mhm, sure. I mean, ultimately it doesn't matter right? Because you're just going to go back to hating Oikawa-kun's guts tomorrow, and thinking he's arrogant, narcissistic, and all those other words you like to use so much."

"Because _he is_."

"But you're still curious…? Because you think there's more…?"

"I…don't know," she looked to her friend uneasily.

"Are you _sure_ you don't have a crush on him?" Matsui giggled.

"Yes! I mean no! I mean—I don't have a crush on him!" Minako fumed.

The entire time during the lunch period after she and Oikawa had watched the Shiratorizawa match had set off an inquisitive alarm in Minako's head. As much as she agreed with her friend's statement—she _knew_ she would find more and more reasons to find Oikawa's existence insufferable—today had proved that all her previous thoughts on how there was much more to him had some merit. She _was_ curious, but she didn't know why. Was she being too harsh with her judgments? Did she care? What was she trying to prove to herself?

"You hate him but want to know more about him, how funny." Matsui chuckled. "You know, I don't know how to help you since I really don't know what the issue is—"

"—There is no issue," Minako grumbled.

Matsui sighed, "Just…do what you gotta do. Follow your instincts. Just don't be so unnecessarily pushy or let your hardheadedness cloud everything."

There was a comfortable silence that enveloped the air between the two girls as they began to pack-up. Minako looked to her friend, whose short, rusted-orange hair fluttered gently around her face as she moved, and whose wide grin could be spotted from a mile away. Matsui was wild, dramatic, uninhibited, bold—some would even say crazy, but it was delicate moments like these that truly made Minako realize how grateful she was to have such a steadfast friend. She smiled, wide and genuine.

"You know, Matsui, you should try this whole serious-and-thoughtful thing more often. It's very becoming of you," Minako reached over, playfully shoving her friend on the shoulder.

"Tch, what are you talking about; my craze is part of my charm," the other girl laughed.

"Thanks, Matsui."

"Of course, Sonozaki-chan."

As the two left the cafe and parted ways, Minako making her way back to her own house, she felt her phone buzz in the pocket of her uniform blazer. She flipped it open, unsurprised to see a message from her older brother, responding to the one she sent him the previous night of her first news article. Something told her it wasn't going to be pleasant.

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _OI! You didn_ _'t tell me you were writing for the BOYS volleyball team? D:_

 **[To: Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _Why does that matter?_

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _It matters because IT JUST DOES! Boys are the worst, especially Seijoh boys!_

 **[To: Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _YOU were a Seijoh boy!_

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _So I speak from experience! Okay_ _…Okay. If anyone hits on you, you HIT THEM BACK. If anyone gives you trouble, YOU TROUBLE THEM BACK. If anyone tries to kiss you, you kiss them back WITH YOUR FISTS!_

 **[To: Baka-niichan**

 **From: Minako]**

 _Go to sleep._

 **[To: Baka-chan**

 **From: Koichi]**

 _Seriously_ _…no funny business, okay? But great work on the article :3_

Minako shook her head, unsurprised at her brother's antics. He was an older brother, after all. If he were to find out about Oikawa, though…she didn't even want to ruminate on the possibility. Older brothers were obligated by some force in the universe to be an absolute ass about such things, and that was another headache that Minako was unwilling to deal with. Shaking off an eerie shudder that coursed through her, she picked up the pace and headed home swiftly.

* * *

" _Tadaima_!"

The house was quiet except for the soft footfalls of her father undoubtedly preparing dinner. It was a more rare occurrence, she thought. Due to Sonozaki Hideki's work as a professor at Tohoku University, he would often stay in his office at campus till well into the evening. Usually by then, Minako would have been home already, finished eating dinner, and doing her homework. Late nights at work weren't as frequent as they were before, though. And with her brother being overseas for university himself, Minako found herself enjoying the absence of the deafening silence that often overtook the spacious house. It was times like these that the girl would wistfully think of how vibrant the house used to be, and how she ached to feel that again.

" _Okaeri_!" her father's voice boomed gently in response. "Dinner is just about done."

"Sounds good!" Minako rushed up to her room, putting away her things and tugging off the outer layers of her uniform, and made her way back downstairs.

Her father had just finished placing the heaping pot of curry on the table, and Minako smiled as she let the scents of the hearty food fill her nose.

"Smells good, Tou-chan," Minako took a seat at the table.

"Ah, thank you." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, making it over to his own seat.

" _Itadakimasu_!"

" _Itadakimasu_."

A comfortable silence fell over the two figures as they began happily munching on their dinner. It was usually like this, her father being a naturally quiet man and Minako herself never really speaking much to him one-on-one. Though she noticed this time that his eyes would wander around the room occasionally, as if he were nervous about something.

"So, how was work?" Their silence broke as Minako spoke up, hoping to pull her father out of his strange reverie and say something.

"Mm, good, really good. I finished grading some tests today—the students aren't a hopeless cause as I first thought," he laughed gently.

Minako smiled, "That's always good."

"How about you? How has the first month been so far?"

The girl looked ahead thoughtfully, "Pretty good. Busy, as always. But I'm managing."

Hideki nodded, "That's good to hear. How's the school paper going?"

"Fine…well, as fine as it can be, I suppose," she shrugged.

"Volleyball's not too much of a hassle, is it?" he inquired softly.

"Not as much as I first thought. I'm starting to warm up to it—maybe even like it," she freely admitted to him, for it was nothing but the truth. Though she had her reservations and…deterrences, she kept those quietly to herself.

The older man smiled, "I'm glad you're taking to it so well."

"As well as I can," she chuckled nervously. "My first article was published earlier this week, by the way."

"I…I saw. Good work. It was very well written."

"Thanks, I—wait, you saw?" Minako's spoon hovered over her mouth mid-bite. She stared at the man, confusion etched on her face, as she tried to recollect when she would have given him a copy of the paper. As far as she remembered, she didn't.

"I, uh," her father started glancing around again, nervous and uncertain. "I came home much earlier today, so I did some cleaning. I saw a copy on your desk, so I read it."

"Oh, okay."

Minako suddenly froze.

She did remember the previous night when she placed a copy of the paper on her desk. There was nothing to that, really. But she also remembered that there was something else she had left on her desk that she had entirely forgotten to put away in her haste to leave the house in the morning. In fact, if she remembered precisely, she hadn't even closed it. Minako felt a fierce heat overtake her face as the realization struck her that the impassioned words of 'Oikawa Tooru is a glorified asshat', in all its bold, capitalized wonder, glared like a signal flare from the page of her left-open notebook for any poor fellow to lay their eyes on. Minako wanted to disappear into her chair.

"Ummmmmmm…." Words wouldn't leave her mouth coherently, as she noticed her father's expression, indicating that he clued in on her own realization.

Hideki looked around nervously, clearing his throat and speaking softly, "Um, I don't want to pry, Minako…but who is Oikawa Tooru?"

"Ummmmmmm…"

For as long as the girl had been writing, she found herself all of a sudden at a loss for words. They seemed stuck behind her lips as she uselessly stuttered, unable to even formulate where to begin, for Oikawa Tooru was not just a mere passing thought. Unfortunately for her she had placed herself between a rock and a hard place, unwilling to lie to her own father, but never—never, ever—wanting to confront the possibility of talking about _boys_ with him either.

"I know it's not any of my business…but I'm just, uh, looking out for you," Hideki's words came out shakily, as he too struggled with a conversation he had always dreaded having with his daughter. "Is…is this Oikawa Tooru…your boyfriend? Did…he hurt you…?"

Minako almost choked on her own saliva, "No! No, no, no, absolutely not! To both of those!" Her hand was gripping onto her spoon so tightly she thought she might permanently bend it out of shape. She dropped it onto her plate and waved her hands in protest, aggressively trying to quell the nervous concern and horrid implication in her father's tone and words.

"Oh…Okay…" he still looked like a deer-in-headlights, as he desperately tried to make eye contact with his youngest child.

"No, um…" Minako stammered, swallowing nervously. "He's…he's definitely not my boyfriend. Don't worry. And he didn't hurt me. He's just…a guy on the volleyball team. He's…kind of a butthole, but also nice sometimes. I don't know, it's weird. We kind of got into a childish argument, and I guess I was…angry. But it really wasn't a big deal, just kids being immature and all that…"

See? Not that hard? Minako pondered dubiously. It was certainly the truth, but she knew now that her father was going to be forever stained by Oikawa and his unwitting arrival into his subconscious. She could only hope and pray that he wouldn't bring it up with her brother…

"Oh…Okay. As long as everything is okay," he responded lightly, the worry fading from his face as he visibly seemed to relax.

"Yes, of course. Everything's fine, no need to worry," the girl breathed a trembling breath. She could tell, by the sparing few curious glances that her father would throw her once in a while, that his temporary worry had only ceased for the moment. She had no doubt that this would be brought up again in the future.

' _Fantastic…'_

Dinner continued fairly uneventfully after that moment of panic. Light, pleasant conversation filled the normally quiet and awkward air between the two, but Minako couldn't help but think, sadly, how it would have been so much nicer if the whole family were here. She kept her thoughts to herself, and her face stoic, as she helped her father clear the table after eating. They both retreated to their own devices after, and Minako slowly slumped upstairs back into her room. Spotting the journal and newspaper lying on her table, untouched from how she left it the night before, she quickly snatched them and stuffed them into her bag. Plopping onto her bed, she stared up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

' _My problems…will start and end with Oikawa Tooru…_

…

 _How the hell did I get myself in the situation?_

…

 _Is there even a situation? Why am I being so dramatic?!_ _'_

* * *

The next day was warm and sunny, a positive indication that spring was well under way, and summer would soon be making its appearance as well. And for the student body of virtually every school in the country, it meant that they were going to get busier. _Much_ busier. Spring meant training for local and national sports competitions, namely Interhigh. Aoba Johsai was no exception, especially due to the multitude of sports teams it harbored. That simultaneously meant that Minako had to get her final introductory pieces for the paper all settled before the start of the preliminary tournament. If they were to make it past prelims—four to five tiresome rounds of it—then they would be off to the Interhigh National Playoffs in Tokyo for another four to five tiresome days. It was so short, but the mental and physical taxation felt more like years and years of grueling accumulation.

What a crazy life the athletic world was.

Minako settled into the club room after school for her regular routine of editing and video-watching, briefly pausing at the club room's events board. There was usually nothing of interest posted there. Usually only dates and locations for certain events that would be of interest to cover, but typically nothing for her attention. Regardless, her eyes scanned the board filled with various clippings and flyers, till one in particular caught her eye. She ripped it from its place.

 **Miyagi Prefectural Youth Writing Competition**

 **SUMMER**

 _Ages: 13-19_

 _Categories:_

 _\- Essay_

 _\- Story_

 _Minimum Word Count:_

 _Essay : 5000 Words_

 _Story: 35,000 Words_

 _Runner ups:_ _¥10,000_

 _First Place: Published work in CULTURE JAPAN, VIP Pass to the Autumn National Writer_ _'s Exhibition in TOKYO, Cash prizes_

 _Submission Deadline: JULY 31st_

 _Visit Culture Miyagi's official website for submission rules!_

It didn't take long for her to scan the contents of the flyer, but for some reason Minako hesitated as she clutched onto the piece of paper. Competitions were never something she had an extensive repertoire with. Any publication of hers were done through the school, for school. She found herself nervous for even thinking of partaking in something like this. Yet another part of her knew that it was time to start testing her mettle…for better or worse. She stuffed the flyer in her bag haphazardly and settled into her chair.

As she propped her laptop open and pulled up her work, a familiar voice came from behind and settled down beside her.

"How are those player spotlights coming along?" Asana Tsuyo asked. She had been the one to start it all off, and had been the other begrudging voice of reason in Minako's life.

Minako didn't know whether to be thankful or spiteful.

She decided on the former when she came to realize how much she had actually taken a liking to volleyball.

"Pretty good," Minako said. "I'm just editing the captain's, and should be able to move on to the vice-captain soon."

"Good," Asana smiled. "I'm glad you've taken such an interest in your work now—it shows."

Minako chuckled abashedly, "Well, volleyball is actually quite interesting and fun to watch, so writing about it isn't all too bad." She looked to the editor with a shy look of admittance etched on her face, "I'm taking your advice and giving it a chance."

Asana laughed jovially, "How incredibly mature of you, Sonozaki-san. I'm glad things are working out so well. I'm assuming this sentiment extends to Oikawa Tooru?"

Minako's smile turned down slightly, "It's…a work in progress."

The editor pat the girl lightly on the shoulder, "Progress being the key word, though. Good. Need any help with anything?"

The writer hummed, "Just logistical stuff, really."

"What's up?"

"How are matches determined typically? They seemed more premeditated, especially for Spring Nationals," Minako opened up the Sendai City Gymnasium schedule for the upcoming summer, peering curiously at the dates and the list of teams set to compete. Prelims took place in the span of one weekend. One weekend of multiple games each day, a feat of stamina to be recognized amidst player skill. It was marvelous.

"Most of the first round match-ups are randomly drawn, and teams advance upon winning," Asana began. "However, teams that place within the top four of the prelims are exempt from the first round. Aside from that, it's standard advancement procedure."

"Oh," Minako tapped her fingers on the desk. "Easy enough. I suppose the top four teams have been fairly consistent over the past year?"

Asana nodded, "Essentially. Even before last year, Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa would usually make it. Date Tech are typical contenders, too, and Kesenike West has been steadily improving over the years."

Minako stared ahead, wishing not to make eye contact with her editor as a sudden thought took bloom. "What about Karasuno?"

"Karasuno?" Asana seemed taken back by the random mention. "Uh, from what I've heard they haven't been contenders for Nationals in some years. As far as I know, they hardly have even been top four."

"Really?" There was an hint of disappointment laced in the writer's tone. She was surprised by it herself, but ever since Matsui had brought it up the previous day, her brain was suddenly flooded with thoughts of the past, and all those involved. Would she even see Karasuno at matches if they didn't even make top four?

"Mhm. The fallen crows, they're called. They made Nationals quite a few times since the team's inception, but ever since their famed coach retired, they haven't been able to reach that spot again."

' _Guess not,'_ Minako thought sadly. How brutal athletics could be.

Would Aoba Johsai ever reach that elusive spot in Nationals? Years and years of Shiratorizawa's reign prevented them from doing so, but hard work would always bear fruit, and that she believed firmly.

She could only hope that would be enough.

* * *

Oikawa was not a man of many focuses. In fact, there was only one that he truly cared about.

It was that which kept him so late at school most nights such as this one, methodically going over drills and honing his technique where he could. Time and time again proved that he would never be a genius, but he could still beat them. And he would settle for no less. No matter how harshly his body, or Iwaizumi, screamed at him, his will was iron. And he would continue tempering it till it dominated his enemies.

Shiratorizawa. Oh, what Oikawa Tooru would do to finally fell the beast known as Ushijima Wakatoshi. They were stronger, no doubt, and would only keep getting stronger.

And then next year would be filled with new blood, new talent waiting to take the spotlight and shine their bright light over the court. The thought brought Oikawa to a certain first year back in middle school and his teeth grit in frustration.

No, he was no genius. But even geniuses could be bested.

He had to believe that. There was no choice.

Oikawa jumped in the air to strike down at the volleyball, sending it ricocheting off the other side with a loud thud. He jogged after it as it rolled over to his belongings. Just as he picked it up, a flash of white coming from his open backpack caught his eye. He picked it up, scanning the contents of the flyer he had picked up early that morning.

Part of him didn't know why he even bothered. But it caught his eye, and he couldn't help but think of the boorish writer he had met only a month ago. Her presence in his life had been a minor nuisance at most, considering how she treated him like dirt. But he also determined that she wasn't all that bad all the time. She had the capacity for kindness, she just chose not to use it around him.

How cruel.

But if he could admire one thing, it was her talent and dedication to her craft. In that way, the two were more similar than not. An unpleasant thought, Oikawa decided, but not one he could deny. Though their pleasant interactions, few and far between, were decent enough to keep her in his good graces, they never lasted very long. She had the uncanny ability to be so flippant and grating towards him and it irked him. She was more annoying than he hoped for.

It seemed like his iron will had to be tempered in more ways than one.

* * *

The late evening rolled around slower than Minako had expected. She leaned back on her chair, watching the screen in front of her turn black as the video ended, and scanned the pages of her notebook filled with notes of the other teams that would take part in the Miyagi Interhigh preliminaries.

The prefecture was not short of athletic talent, that much was for certain. The boys were lumbering giants and Minako found herself wondering how these kids were only in high school.

Minako stretched her arms up, eyes shifting to the clock. 8:30PM—later than she normally stayed. She was happy that she'd received a message from her father informing her of his own late stay at the university to finish up some work, saving her the guilt from having to miss a dinner together with him. She stood up, turning off the computer in the club room, and packed up her things, deciding that she should make her exit before nighttime patrols showed up and reprimanded her for staying past the designated time. Again. She locked up the room and adjusted the strap of her bag before heading out of the building.

She fiddled with the blazer draped over her hands as she made her exit, and suddenly a bout of curiosity washed over her and she switched directions to take a different route. Specifically, the one that would require passing by the gymnasium used by the boys volleyball team.

It did not come as a surprise that she saw the lights still on and heard the thudding sounds of a ball repeatedly hitting polished floorboards. She walked towards the door and slowly opened it, peeking inside.

Oikawa, drenched in sweat, propelled himself into the air before bringing his hand down towards the ball and slamming it down on the other side of the net. Despite the hard lines etched onto his face, eyes narrow and steely as they focused on the task at hand, and the clear lines of exhaustion grappling onto his body, he was still as graceful and powerful as he was during their practice match against Oomisaki High School. The movements seemed unnervingly natural, and Minako could all but stare in awe as she watched him repeat them over and over, his form not once wavering. She smirked to herself.

"Go home!" the girl yelled, just as he landed from another serve.

Oikawa turned in her her direction, startled. "Oh, Sono-chan," he said, breathing heavily.

"It's the end of the week, why are you still here so late?" She walked inside.

"I can ask the same about you," he remarked, smirking.

"Well—okay, okay," she conceded. "But nighttime patrols are going to come by soon."

"Hm," he tossed the ball into the air a few times. "But until they do, I still have time."

Minako's eyes widened slightly, "I guess…"

There it was; that indomitable dedication, she noted remarkably. She couldn't help but feel a sliver of admiration for the boy, despite rationality saying that perhaps this was going a tad too far.

Oikawa chuckled and paused, "Oh! I have something for you, by the way." He walked over to where his gym bag lay and rummaged through it for a few seconds before pulling out a crumpled sheet of paper. He walked over to the girl, who was standing by awkwardly, and handed it to her.

Minako reached out to grab the paper from Oikawa's outstretched hands, scanning the sheet carefully.

'MIYAGI PREFECTURAL WRITING COMPETITION' it read—the exact same one that she had gotten that afternoon from the club room.

"Where did you get this?" she asked curiously.

"I saw it near a bus stop this morning on my way to school," he shrugged. "I thought you might be interested."

Minako laughed gently, reaching into her own bag and producing the same sheet. She turned it towards him, "I was, actually."

Oikawa's eyes lit up and he grinned, "So, are you going to do it?"

"I'm not sure yet…"

"You should," he said plainly.

"Most of the creative writing I did last year was for the paper…I don't know how well I'd fare in a competition…"

"So?" Oikawa looked at her pointedly, fiddling with the ball in his hands. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

It was amusing to see the boy that irritated her so thoroughly being so encouraging, and doing so in such a forthright and simple manner. There was nothing inherently inspiring or excessive in the way he spoke his words—just plain truth, simply and clearly.

"Maybe I will…we'll see," Minako smiled shyly.

"Good! And if you ever need inspiration, you can always write about me, you know?" Oikawa winked at her.

"I'd rather not lose, though."

"So mean!"

Minako chuckled, "Okay, well…don't practice too hard. And get some rest, okay?"

Oikawa blinked, his face unreadable for a second, "Yeah, of course…"

The girl smiled, giving him a small wave before she made her exit, carrying both her own flyer as well as the one Oikawa handed to her in her hands. As the street lamps, glowing brightly in the night air, led Minako on her way home, her thoughts drifted back to the brunette setter.

Her relationship with him seemed to experience yet endure the bumpiest of roller coaster rides despite the relatively short time of their acquaintance. She couldn't quite understand the nature of it herself. Each time he found some way to surprise her. Everything felt strange, foreign…Minako wasn't sure where any of it would lead her. She felt as if she was led straight smack in the middle of a very personal journey and the only way she could deal with it is by approaching it through the eyes of an observer. That was her job; observe and write. But curiosity was poking at her like an obtrusive needle. 'Follow your instincts' were the words Matsui said to her the previous evening.

Minako's only hope her instincts were more reliable than the raging clash of her own thoughts and emotions.

* * *

The month of May hit everyone like a freight truck. Despite it being only the second month of school it seemed like everyone had hunkered down and submerged themselves in their club activities and school work. The first week was the calm before the storm, as Golden Week vacation allowed for some semblance of a break before the rest of the month got hectic. Minako spent most of this week hanging out with Matsui and working on her competition submission, as well as working on player spotlights for the volleyball team starters. Once school resumed, she continued on with her regular pattern of school and work, not leaving room for much else. The occasional visits to the gymnasium were lack luster, and usually involved pulling aside some of the players for a few words before leaving them to their grueling practices. Practice matches were frequent, and an interesting way to observe other teams in action as well as watching the progress of Seijoh themselves. The team had definitely improved, and the practice matches were an excellent way to try out new plays and hone techniques, and it was showing. Seijoh was a mighty army indeed, and Minako felt a tinge of pity for the teams that would have to face off against them during the first couple of rounds of preliminaries.

Oikawa himself seemed to be in an entirely different world. His focus and concentration were immovable, completely trained on his team and the game. Even his screaming fangirls would allow him his necessary space, though Oikawa still indulged them when he could. His personality seemed to switch at a moment's notice, catering to whatever environment he was in. His focus shifted so concisely, too. It was impressive, to say the least, and so unlike the writer herself.

One Monday after school Minako made her way to the gymnasium and, to her surprise, found it empty.

"Mondays are usually their rest days, if I'm not mistaken."

Minako turned to the voice behind her. A petite girl with long, blond hair stood a few feet away, glancing to the sides nervously.

"Oh…okay," Minako muttered dully.

"Were you looking for Oikawa-kun?"

"Uh no, actually—Vice captain Sakai-san, but it's not urgent."

"I see…" the girl glanced at her before looking away hurriedly.

"Uh…do you need something?" Minako eyed the blond suspiciously. She was pretty, very pretty, but her demeanor seemed far too abashed for someone with as stellar looks as her.

"Uh, no sorry," she laughed nervously. "It just looked like you were looking for someone."

"Oh…Okay," Minako stood by awkwardly. "Well, um, thanks. For letting me know, I mean. Are you…friends with someone from the team?"

The girl shook her head slowly, "Ah, not particularly. I'm in Hanamaki-kun and Matsukawa-kun's class, so I've spoken to them a few times."

The two stood facing each other for a few seconds like a pair of statues, the conversation lulling into a painful stagnation. Minako couldn't help her inward groan, wondering why it was that her own social skills had deteriorated to the point of nonexistence.

"Well," the blonde piped up, "I'll be going now. Bye."

"Uh, bye…" Minako replied, waving dumbly as the girl bounded off.

"Was that your friend?"

The writer twirled around at the sound of the voice, her face meeting Oikawa's as he stared at her curiously, a lopsided grin on his face.

"I didn't think you had the aptitude to _make_ friends," he hummed, tapping his chin in mock thought.

Minako grimaced, "She isn't my friend, I don't even know who she is."

He grinned, "I figured she wasn't actually your friend; you have an awful personality."

Minako's mouth twitched, "Hm, you're right; no wonder _we're_ friends."

"You're right; we are friends. I mean, charity work is one of my virtues, if I do say so myself," he smiled tightly at the writer, placing his hand over his chest dramatically.

"Oh _how kind_ of you, _Oikawa-san_ , you truly are the salt of the earth."

"Just one of many things people say about me."

"Oh, _I_ _'m sure_ —many, indeed."

Oikawa laughed jovially, staring at the girl challengingly with a menacing glint in his eyes. Minako reciprocated, mouth upturned in a sneer.

"By the way," she continued, "are you planning on practicing during your _rest day_?"

"Oh, Sono-chan, do you care? How uncharacteristic. But like your insults, it's nothing but empty space."

"I'll tell Iwaizumi-san."

"Geh?!"

"So, why are you here then?"

"Just grabbing some things, sheesh, no need to be my keeper," he waved his hand dismissively.

The girl glowered at him before turning away, "Anyway, if the vice-captain isn't here then I'll be off."

"You don't want to see me?" Oikawa called behind her in protest.

"Not worth my time."

"So rude!"

Ignoring the childish remarks from the setter, Minako headed off. On her way out the front gates, she noticed a figure leaning against the wall, his spiky dark hair casting shadows behind him, hands in his pockets and looking agitated.

As Minako got closer, Iwaizumi looked up, surprised, and offered her a small wave. "Hey, Sonozaki-san."

"Hey," she replied listlessly. "Waiting for Oikawa-san?"

"Yeah…did that dumbass sneak off to practice? I'll kill him."

"No, no. He said he was grabbing some things."

"'Grabbing things' my ass, I swear this guy has a death wish," Iwaizumi growled.

Minako chuckled, "He wasn't wearing his practice clothes, so I don't think there's anything to worry about."

Iwaizumi frowned, unconvinced, "If you say so…"

"Oh, Iwa-chan, you waited for me," Oikawa's voice called out.

Minako glanced to the side, seeing the boy walking up to the two, waving his hands pleasantly.

"Of course, you owe me a yakisoba bread that you stole from me at lunch," Iwaizumi muttered, glaring at the setter.

Oikawa chuckled coolly, "I was hoping you forgot." He glanced at Minako and smiled, "Wanna join?"

"Not particularl—"

Oikawa gently grabbed her by the sleeve of her uniform blouse before she could finish and pulled her into step with him and the ace.

Minako grumbled, miffed at the the boy's nerve, but did not protest, and continued to walk alongside them.

"So," Iwaizumi started, staring up at the setter with an arched brow, "what were you grabbing, hm?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing really," Oikawa shrugged, grinning obnoxiously. "Just the many hearts I stole from my adoring fans."

Minako and Iwaizumi both groaned as Oikawa chuckled blithely, spewing out more sugar-coated words and taunting the disgruntled ace.

Minako spared Oikawa her sneers as she snuck a few glances through her peripherals, eyeing him carefully.

He looked as nonchalant as ever, maintaining that regular cheery and bright disposition. He seemed like any other regular teenager through first glance. But as Minako observed him more, she could see clearly how much of a toll his rigorous lifestyle was taking on him. Through the lines of his normal upbeat self, she sensed a weariness incised onto his face and laced throughout his body. Even his laughter seemed heavier, as if he were winded and catching his breath. It was only the second month of school, and one month till Interhigh preliminaries, and yet he looked as tired as a grizzled soldier after the storm of war.

Oikawa turned his head to look at the girl ardently, "Sono-chan, you aren't jealous, are you?"

"Haah?!" Minako turned to him, aghast. "Why the hell would I be jealous?"

"Because you're attracted to me?"

He said it so lackadaisically, so soberly—Minako felt a sudden urge to eviscerate the jovial look that overtook his face.

"Okay, okay," Iwaizumi stepped around Oikawa to come in between him and Minako, as if sensing the girl's disdain. "Refrain from violence, please."

Oikawa shrugged, smirking candidly, as Minako snarled at him.

The three teenagers made their way to the closest conbini, shuffling inside and separating to handle their own business. As Oikawa and Iwaizumi made their way to the food and snack aisles, Minako found herself walking to the media section and began perusing the stands of magazines and other various published works. Her eyes caught one in particular, the image of a lean, well-built athlete suspended in the air, aiming his hand for a well-practiced and precise serve. Her interest was swiftly piqued.

The newest edition of Monthly Volleyball stood proudly among other athletic publishings. Its popularity spoke for itself, for there were only a couple left on the shelf. She picked it up and slowly leafed through the contents. Pages and pages of articles, eloquently and informatively written, graced the glossy papers. Colorful pictures of young volleyball players displaying their athletic prowess complimented the writings. It was certainly a well-made collection of works. The writer paused on one page in particular. A group picture of one particular team, donned in the typical purple/maroon and white of their uniform.

Shiratorizawa Academy was certainly the buzz of the high school volleyball world, especially in Miyagi—they were the best in the prefecture, after all. Alongside their picture were the pictures of other teams that were a shoo-in for Nationals; Itachiyama, Inarizaki, Fukurōdani, and many other teams that boasted strong and talented players. Her eyes trailed back up to Shiratorizawa's section, reading the small blurb written up about them.

Being a school with a low acceptance rate—only accepting those on sports scholarships or those with above-average test scores—it was no surprise that Shiratorizawa was one of the nation's top high schools, and why it attracted top-tier athletes. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Minako read, was well on his way to being considered one of the top three aces in the entire country, and was one of the top contenders in consideration to join the Under-19 national volleyball team.

' _This…this is Oikawa-san's rival…'_ The relentless firing cannon atop the immovable, unreachable wall. She gathered a sense of his abilities by watching those old tournament matches, and talented he certainly was. But to read that there was so much more in store only gave her the idea of the kind of potential this boy had, and how far he would be going with it. Minako bit her lip apprehensively.

"Disgusting. Doesn't it piss you off?" Oikawa peered over her shoulder suddenly, startling the girl, eyes scanning the page she was reading. He sneered, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, "It makes me want to impale myself, ugh."

"Please—do everyone a favor," Iwaizumi chimed in, disinterested.

"So mean!"

"Ushiwaka may be a beast among critters, but it doesn't mean he's unbeatable," Iwaizumi avouched.

Oikawa arched his brow, aggravated, "And how do a group of critters beat the beast?"

"Mobbing," Minako stated.

"What?" Oikawa's brows furrowed.

"Nevermind."

"He's just a stupid idiot, a stupid idiot face, blehhh," Oikawa leaned forward toward the magazine, making crude faces at the picture of Ushijima.

"Okay, well," Minako shut the magazine and returned it to the shelf, throwing Oikawa an admonishing glance. "Iwaizumi-san is right. No one is unbeatable, and Ushijima-san is no exception. And Seijoh's strength is nothing to laugh at. You're all more than enough to beat Shiratorizawa."

"Oh, Sono-chan," the childish contortions of his face softened as he turned his gaze to Minako and smiled at her fondly, a hint of amusement weaved into the gesture. "You haven't even seen an official match in-person, but you have so much faith in me. I'm flattered."

"I was talking about the whole team, not just you, idiot," she muttered.

"But I'm _am_ the setter."

"Oh, how nice it must be to have such a limited brain space just to talk all the rubbish you want."

Oikawa eye twitched as he scowled, opening his mouth to retort, but Iwaizumi's impassive voice cut in.

"Okay, children, that's enough. Make your purchases, let's go home, sheesh."

Minako shook her head and headed to the door, ignoring the churlish faces Oikawa made in her direction.

"Stop it, Loserkawa," said Iwaizumi.

"Why are you insulting me?!"

"Because you're a completely shitty guy."

"Don't make it worse!"

One month—it had been a little over a month since she took on the position for the sports column as the volleyball writer, Minako thought as she smiled to herself at Iwaizumi and Oikawa's antics. It was irritating… _he_ was irritating…but she really did start feeling like she found _a_ place in her precarious situation. It was more than a sense of mere acquiescence, but rather that of assiduous eagerness. The game itself was enticing, and writing about it, as difficult as it had been—and still was to some degree—was satisfying when done right. She didn't mind, she thought firmly, for she welcomed such feelings. She did not mind at all.

"Oi, Sono-chan!" Oikawa called out before she made her exit. "Your bruise is all gone now, but somehow you don't look any prettier?"

…

Maybe she minded a little.

* * *

 **A/N: You know what sucks? When all your best writing/editing happens at 3AM/4AM...You know what sucks even more? When you seem to _only_ be able to write at 3AM/4AM...**

 **Lots of reworking had to be at this point and continuing forward, hence the snail-pace of updates. But let's be real, motivation in the real culprit. Or, rather, lack thereof. Life is still crazy, weird, busy-ish, but we all do what we can. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**

 **By the way, who keeps up with the Haikyuu Stage Play stuff? I'm sad because this is the last time to see Seijoh before the current cast graduates. If you haven't checked any of them out, be sure you do! The casting is impeccable-I dare you _not_ to fall in love with Asuma Kousuke, Oikawa's actor. Or anyone, for that matter...**

 **Thanks to Tora3, jungkookies, and thePotatoandtheEagle for your kind reviews! And thank you to all those that favorited and followed! Much love and appreciation.**

 **-Anzu**


	6. Curiosity May Kill the Cat

**Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Curiosity May Kill the Cat**

"Thanks, Sakai-san," Minako smiled at the stocky vice-captain, closing her notebook.

"No problem, Sonozaki-chan," the third year grinned back at her. "Write well about me, yeah? Make me so popular I can't breathe."

Minako chuckled, "No promises, Sakai-san, but I will write as best I can. Good luck with the rest of your practices."

"Thanks. Oh," he called out once more as they both started turning their separate ways. "If you're still around later in the evening, which something tells me you will be, then make sure Oikawa and whoever is still around with him head home, please? Last thing the team needs is for him to overwork himself again."

"Uh, right. I'll…do my best…" Minako's brow arched curiously.

Sakai nodded appreciatively and headed off.

Minako gripped the notebook of her hands. _'Overwork himself…again…'_

Interhigh was just around the corner and the other members of the school paper were running around following the Interhigh journeys of the other sports teams. May was just about done—only the second month of school yet it felt like she was ages into her second year. She breathed a heavy sigh, rubbing her eyes with her hand, a slow tiredness creeping up on her. She couldn't imagine what these athletes were going through.

She made her way back to her club room, diligently typing away as she worked on her articles. The rhythmic clicks of fingers on keyboard continued steadily throughout the rest of the evening. It didn't seem like long, at least not on her standards, before she decided to head out earlier than normal, if anything to sate the exhaustion knitting at her eyelids and making it all the more difficult to keep them open. Out of courtesy to the vice-captain and his request, but mostly for her own curiosity, Minako took the route leading her past the gymnasium where she could peek in at the practice she was sure some people were still pushing through.

The gym was lit up, and dull noises could be heard through the closed doors. When Minako opened them, slowly and deliberately, she wasn't surprised at the sight.

Oikawa was methodically practicing his serves, with Iwaizumi standing off to the side looking agitated and ready to leave. The setter's muscles flexed every few seconds as he prepped his hands for every move.

Minako pursed her lips, peering at him for a few minutes as Iwaizumi berated him, and after some consideration treaded back a few steps, letting the door close.

"Hey, Sonozaki-san," a voice greeted from behind.

Minako whirled around, finding herself facing fellow second years, and other starters of the volleyball team, middle blocker Matsukawa and wing spiker Hanamaki.

"Came to interview us, hm?" Matsukawa asked, giving an entertained grin.

"Aha, not yet I'm afraid," Minako smiled.

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were here to see Oikawa?" Hanamaki laughed, joined by Matsukawa soon after.

"Please, let's not entertain such absurd notions," the girl sighed, exasperated.

"Believe me, it's already been entertained by most of the team," the light-haired boy smirked.

Minako groaned, shaking her head. "I don't…ever want to know, or hear, or think about that. Please. I just…" she stuttered, all of a sudden unsure of what to say or even why she was by the gymnasium in the first place.

"Relax, Sonozaki-chan, we're just teasing," the middle blocker chuckled, his droopy eyes glinting playfully.

"Besides," Hanamaki continued, greatly amused. "Most of us already determined that it's a match made in hell. Someone will most definitely end up murdered—not something we'd like to encourage with Interhigh right around the corner."

The girl frowned as the two boys smiled slyly at her. It seemed like the second year Seijoh volleyball starters all had the uncanny ability to be unnervingly grating. All except for Iwaizumi and blessings upon him for that, Minako thought.

"Sakai-san…asked me to get Oikawa to stop practicing and go home…but I think Iwaizumi-san is handling that," she said softly.

"Well, if Iwaizumi can't get him to relax, then you have no chance, sorry to say," Hanamaki mentioned.

"Was he like this last year?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh yeah. And from what I know, he was like this all throughout middle school," Matsukawa affirmed.

"Because of Ushijima-san?"

The two nodded slowly, though they shared a wary glance with each other. Minako didn't fail to notice.

"Ushiwaka…well, none of us are big fans of the beast, really. But Oikawa took all our losses a bit more…personally…" Matsukawa said.

"Oikawa-san has the tendency to use others'…uh, abilities as his own shortcomings, doesn't he?" Minako remarked.

"Well, I don't know if that's necessarily the case…" Matsukawa pursed his lips.

The writer narrowed her eyes, "Then what is it?"

"Well," the wing spiker started, glancing uneasily at Matsukawa, "I mean…it wasn't just Ushiwaka…"

Minako's eyes widened, her intrigue suddenly heightened. "Oh?"

Matsukawa sighed, "We don't…really know any details, so don't put much stock on this…but apparently there was some genius first year setter when Oikawa was in this third year at Kitagawa Daiichi that…well, drove him to even more extremes."

"Genius…" Minako abruptly thought of the one lunch period a few weeks ago which she and Oikawa shared in the computer room.

 _'I am no genius.'_

Minako was almost startled by the severity of his tone when he said it. Aside from that, she didn't think much on it then but was now starting to realize the gravity of his statement.

"We don't know much of the details…Iwaizumi does, I'm sure…But on top of Ushiwaka's natural talent and physique and Kageyama's genius, it kind of sent him off the edge…" Matsukawa explained.

"Sent him off the edge how…?"

The two shrugged, but their nonchalance was betrayed by the slight tension in their shoulders.

"Kageyama…" Minako whispered to herself, her mind trying to fit pieces of a puzzle together. She just wasn't sure what the picture was supposed to look like.

"Wonder what high school he'll be going to next year…" Hanamaki mumbled to himself.

"Doesn't matter, just means that Oikawa is going to be even more on edge."

"Yeah, up until he damages his knee more," Hanamaki huffed.

"What?" Minako's attention jostled at the curly-haired boy's words. "What happened to his knee?"

"You didn't notice?" Hanamaki asked. "His left knee, with the white brace."

"I thought that was just a fashion statement…" the girl mumbled.

The wing spiker snickered, "Well, I wouldn't put that past him. But no, it's a knee support. He hurt it sometime during middle school, as far as we know."

Minako wracked her brain for whatever minimal knowledge of potential knee injuries she had acquired over the few years, "Like…his ACL, or MCL?"

"Dunno," Matsukawa shrugged, "he's never talked about it. It isn't a regular problem—"

"—but he keeps overworking himself…" the girl interjected.

Hanamaki nodded slowly, pursing his lips.

Minako pondered for a moment, brows knitting tightly. "Right, um, sorry for asking so many questions."

"Not a problem, it's a good change of pace," the middle blocker grinned.

"Though next time it'd be nice if you asked about us, hm?" Hanamaki winked playfully.

The girl chuckled, cheeks flushing, "Of course… Thanks, Matsukawa-san, Hanamaki-san."

The two nodded at the girl, offering her an affable smile and taking their leave with a final wave.

 _'Ushijima-san…Kageyama…knee injury…'_

For someone as smart as Oikawa—at least what was told to her by his teammates and fellow peers—his lack of consideration to his own body, for an athlete especially, irritated Minako. She didn't even need to know about his knee to assume the definite consequences his body would otherwise be suffering due to his arduous practice regime. But as irritated and…confused as she felt, she couldn't help but feel a pang of heartbreak at the thought that someone as talented and strong as him still drove himself to the point of breaking his own body. Out of what, desperation? Anger? Passionate devotion? It almost seemed like a detrimental case of tunnel-vision, and that thought concerned her for some reason.

And she couldn't help but agree with Hanamaki and Matsukawa's statement that Oikawa would act no different. It just seemed like something he would do, considering the image he put up to the public. Something like an injury seemed almost too arbitrary to impede someone like Oikawa. Minako's early thoughts on him didn't seem to be of naught—she knew that he wasn't all that he seemed, though she didn't expect it to be so…somber. Perhaps she was thinking too much into things, but it persisted, nagging her like an uncontrollable itch. Minako chewed the inside of her mouth, disconcerted.

She turned back to the doors of the gymnasium and opened them once more, peeking her head through.

Oikawa was setting tosses to Iwaizumi, who was spiking the ball unenthusiastically over the net, though he was clad in his track suit rather than practice shirt and shorts.

"Enough, Oikawa, we should head home. And you need to rest," said Iwaizumi firmly.

Oikawa didn't reply as he continued to tosses balls to Iwaizumi, who continued spiking them with a loud sigh. However, after picking his next ball he paused for a moment and turned his eyes slyly to the door.

"You know, I know you're attracted to me and all, but you don't have to try and be sneaky," he said coolly.

"Don't you ever get tired of being so full of yourself?" the girl spat, entering the gymnasium in full, hands on her hips and scowling deeply.

"No," Oikawa shrugged, grinning.

Iwaizumi turned around, "Oh hey Sonozaki-san. Want to entertain him for a while?" he asked, walking over to pick up his bag.

"Iwa-chan~," the setter whined.

"I entertain with pen and paper only," said Minako dully. "I've been instructed by your vice-captain to make sure you all leave and get rest. Go home."

Iwaizumi nodded and began bringing down the net as Oikawa pouted and stood aside awkwardly. "Let's go, Oikawa, you need to rest."

Minako eyed the setter carefully. He looked okay, seemed okay, albeit tired and worn-out. Her eyes trailed down his form, pausing at his left knee wrapped by the white knee support. She frowned, unable to imagine what kind of strain he was placing on the joint—it couldn't be good, she thought, especially considering how much strain was put on the knees in general with a sport that involved that much jumping and abrupt movement.

Oikawa sighed, relinquishing to the nags of his peers and heading out the door to the club room. As he passed Minako, he smirked and tugged playfully at her ponytail.

She swatted his hand away, glaring at him as he walked past.

Iwaizumi regarded them casually as he finished up, walking to Minako after he was finished.

"You're awfully quiet today," he intoned gently.

"Am I?" she asked halfheartedly.

"I was expecting more yells and jeers, honestly."

Minako shrugged, "Tired, I guess."

Iwaizumi arched a brow, "Everything okay?"

The writer was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the uniform ribbon around the collar of her shirt. "How long has Oikawa-san had his knee injury?"

The ace looked at her, surprised. "Uh, since 2nd year middle school…it got worse during our third year. Then he started taking better care of himself."

"But despite that he still pushes himself this hard?"

"Well, that's Oikawa."

Minako hummed thoughtfully. For a moment she considered asking about this Kageyama guy. But for some reason the words caught in her throat and nothing but air came out as she opened her mouth. It was a sign, she reasoned with herself, that this was neither the time nor place to bring up something as potentially testy as this first-year genius. Though in the back of her mind she knew that it probably wasn't in her place to ask anyway—the thought made her want to ask so much more.

"Well," Minako began, "I'll head out then. See you later, Iwaizumi-san."

"See ya."

Minako headed out the school grounds, buried in her own thoughts and contemplating what would happen within the next little while or so as the Interhigh preparations came to its climax.

 _'Ushijima-san…Kageyama…knee injury…'_

* * *

Minako stared at the chocolate-haired setter in front of her, studying him carefully, while consequently the teenage boy squirmed under the girl's intense scrutiny.

"I thought interviews were for third years only?" he asked suspiciously.

"For now, yes," Minako affirmed. "But I'll be doing all starters eventually. I'm just getting ahead."

"So you're done all the third years?"

"Yes."

"Isn't there not enough time to cover all the starters before Interhigh?"

"I'll manage."

"Will you write about me as well as you did for Otsuka-senpai and Sakai-senpai, or will it be your regular insults and remarks?" Oikawa stared at her pointedly.

Minako shot him an exasperated glance, "Have I ever written ill of you?" She forcibly ignored her own brain as it reminded her of the very first article she had written for the team—the only article that had ever been admonished by her good-natured editor for its…less-than-tasteful remarks on a certain Seijoh setter.

"In your mind, I'm sure!"

"Just…answer some questions, please?" Minako sighed.

Oikawa pouted, slumping in his chair as he nodded in submission.

"Okay, this is more candid so just be yourself and relax, okay?" Minako glanced at him, offering as genial of a smile as she could.

"You shouldn't tell _me_ that," he replied simply, shrugging.

Minako pressed her lips into a thin line, ignoring his words, and looked down at her notebook. "When was it you began volleyball, and what was it that drew you to the sport in the first place?"

"Hmm," Oikawa stared ahead thoughtfully. "Ever since I can remember, really. I used to watch games on TV with Iwa-chan when we were just kids. I remember thinking how cool it looked when the players moved the way they did, and I wanted to be able to do that."

"So you just picked up a volleyball and started playing?"

"Yeah, nothing to it. We just practiced tossing and receiving at first, then continued with serves and spikes. I guess I was hooked since then."

"But what specifically got you to the point where you were like 'Yeah, I love this sport'? Assuming that you had such a moment?" Minako asked genuinely. She had to remind herself how much she actually enjoyed talking to the third years about their volleyball experiences, and to try and carry it over to all the other players, despite her reservations with the setter.

"I guess…" Oikawa pondered, "that feeling when you hit the ball just right, when in lands right where it's supposed to, and the sound it makes as it hits the ground and the tingle in your fingers afterward…it's pretty amazing." He smiled, more to himself than anything, but it was completely natural and it softened his face in a surprisingly pleasant way. "And when you toss the ball just right, and your spiker hits it as precisely as they hoped. It's not something I can describe properly…I'm sure you would do much better with that."

Minako's gaze remained unwavering as she scanned his face carefully. There certainly were no pretenses in the words he said nor in the way his body spoke—his passion seeped through every crevice. Though her dubiety still remained, she had to admit she quite liked hearing him speak in such a way.

"So…" she continued, "you then decided to take it seriously, and joined your school team?"

"Yes, essentially."

"So, from there what inspired your famed work ethic?"

Oikawa laughed comfortably, "I don't know if famed is the right word."

"I'm sure everyone else would disagree."

The setter smiled at Minako, finally giving a shrug to the idea.

"What would you call it then?" she pressed.

"Dedication, maybe? As I said, I love the sport. Isn't it only natural to want to be better?" Oikawa pursed his lips contemplatively.

"Even to the point of injury?" The writer raised a brow, eyes quickly glancing to his left knee.

The brunette frowned, following the writer's gaze to his knee, before looking back at her with a hint of disdain.

Minako paused for a moment before sighing, "Of course, goals are what drives us all. Though there has to a particular goal you're working towards, no?"

Oikawa shrugged after a final glare, "Nationals has always been my goal."

"Anything else specifically?"

Oikawa gave her a knowing look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Anyone specifically?" Minako fiddled with the pen in her hands as her gaze remained untrained on the setter in front of her. The library the two had settled in that lunch period had gotten eerily quiet, and the lingering silence only reminded Minako of the egg shells she was treading over. It seemed that the setter had heard its crunch.

The boy looked her over suspiciously, "Are these the kind of questions you asked my senpais?"

"I tailor my questions to the players," she stated.

"How thoughtful of you," he replied tightly. "Well, to answer it yes, of course there are players that I would love to be as good, or even better than."

Minako sensed that he wasn't going to drop any names, or any other specifics beyond that, but she couldn't help the gnawing curiosity that snarled at her like a rabid animal.

"Anyone…on your own team, even?"

Oikawa's face remained passive, though his eyes narrowed as he leaned forward slightly, scrutinizing the girl carefully. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean."

"No, I really don't."

Minako eyed him, annoyed. She realized that the art of subtlety and clever manipulation was lost on someone as blunt and straightforward as her; the setter's rigidity came as no surprise to her terse questioning. But her mind swirled with a multitude of thoughts and questions that seemed to unhinge at every joint.

Did she really want to open up this can of worms? _Now_? Why did she even care? _Did_ she care? Rationality began flooding inside her in that brief moment and she started to wonder what it was she really saw in the setter, or what it was she wanted to see. Oikawa Tooru was the enigma, the itch that she so desperately and impatiently wanted to scratch, but in that moment she suddenly started to feel very foolish.

"Besides," he continued, "something tells me you already know enough. I don't know what you heard, or whom you heard it from, but that should be more than enough pertinent information for your—" he gestured towards her notebook, "—article."

Minako opened her mouth to retort, but she merely blinked and slumped slightly in her chair, "I wasn't going to…I wouldn't word it…I'm…never mind."

Oikawa chuckled mirthlessly, "You sure are a strange journalist, Sono-chan—strange and annoying."

The writer couldn't help but notice the underlying tension in his voice. Though cautious and suspicious, he seemed relatively unperturbed at the direction she went in her…questioning. She knew he didn't quite like it. It was masterfully executed, as he was quite quick to evade them all.

"Sorry," she apologized quietly. "That was…uncalled for, I supposed."

Oikawa snorted, "Why can't you ever ask normal questions, like a normal journalist?"

Minako glowered at him before gripping her pen tightly and positioning it over her notebook. "Fine. What do you like do do on your off days, when not playing volleyball or practicing?"

He grinned, "Well…"

* * *

"…Seriously? He's gonna think you're obsessed with him! Isn't that the last thing you feel about him?"

Minako sighed loudly into the mouthpiece of her phone. She knew mentioning anything of the sort would only rile her best friend's already hyperactive imagination, and no one could stop that one-way express train to crazy town.

"Honestly, I really do think you have some kind of thing for him," Matsui mused.

"I do not," Minako grumbled, aggravated. "I was interviewing him for the player spotlight."

"Those were some pretty personal questions for a newspaper article."

Minako shrugged, though the motion went unseen. "I was just…asking what I needed to."

"Oikawa-kun seems to be getting a lot of special treatment from you."

The writer snorted, "As if. I'm interviewing Iwaizumi-san tomorrow, and I've already gotten a few words from the other second years, if that makes a difference."

"Not really, no," Matsui giggled. "You really are something, Sonozaki-chan."

"So you've told me."

"Deny it all you want," Matsui let out a long, dramatic sigh. "But one day, you'll see it."

"And what is it that I need to be seeing?"

"You want me to spell it out for you?" she snickered.

"I think it's you that needs to do the seeing," Minako responded lightly. "Anyway, I need to go now."

"So soon? Eager to work on that article now, aren't you?" The amusement dripped audibly in Matsui's tone.

"Not exactly," Minako dragged her attention to the door in front of her. "I gotta go, talk to you later."

As Minako hung up the phone, she took another sparing glance to the door labeled 'Teachers' Lounge' before slowly pushing the handle and letting herself in.

The lounge was fairly empty, and those that remained were getting ready to take their leave. Minako earned a few strange stares as she glanced around the room, offering bows and apologies for her hasty entrance. In the corner of her eye, she saw the short mess of light hair that belonged to Coach Mizoguchi and she walked briskly towards him. He gave her a startled glance.

"Oh, Sonozaki-san, what can I do for you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Sorry to interrupt, Coach, but I just wanted to ask for a few more old tournament videos. For practice," she asked, bowing slightly.

"Oh, uh, of course. You already have last year's, right?"

"Yes, I was hoping for maybe the year before that, as well?"

"Yes, of course." He turned to a cabinet and began rummaging before producing a small handful of CDs. "There you go."

She smiled, reaching for the objects, "Thank you."

Minako turned to leave but her feet paused suddenly in their movement. Her brain started running faster as she remembered those words spoken by the two second-year starters.

 _'Kageyama…'_

"Actually, Coach," Minako looked back to the man, eyes darting around nervously. "May I inquire for one more thing?"

Coach Mizoguchi canted his head, "Sure, what do you need?"

Her brain begged her to reconsider her next actions, and though Minako prided herself over her brilliance in rationality, it seemed that this new school year and the unprecedented circumstances she was thrust towards completely threw all of that out the window. Her curiosity seemed to beat that over the head repeatedly, and Minako found herself continuing with an ever-growing sense of trepidation hanging over her.

"I was wondering…if the team's video archives might contain copies of any matches from the middle school brackets?" Minako asked slowly, uncertainly.

"Middle school? Currently?" the coach looked at her oddly.

"Well, maybe from a couple of years ago, or something…"

Mizoguchi tapped his chin in thought, "Well, we certainly don't have _every_ middle school's video footage, but there should be some. Which one specifically do you need?"

"…Kitagawa Daiichi."

"Oikawa and Iwaizumi's middle school?"

Minako nodded, swallowing the small, nervous lump in her throat.

"Uh…yes, I think we should have some. But why on earth do you want them?"

"…Curiosity, mostly," she answered lamely. There was no other plausible reason for her to ask of such a thing, and no easy way to lie about it either. Minako hoped that her simple, albeit strange, enough answer would suffice.

Mizoguchi's brow curved quizzically. "Uh, okay…?" He walked over to his desk, opening up a nearby cabinet and sifting through the contents. "A couple of years ago, you said? So Oikawa and Iwaizumi's last year?"

"Sure, that would work."

He spent a few more minutes thumbing through various binders and folders, before pausing and pulling out a few CD cases. He turned to the girl and handed them to her.

Minako accepted them with a low bow, "Thank you very much, Coach. I…hope I can hold on to these for a while?"

"Sure, we have no current need of them."

"Thank you so much," she smiled, and with a final bow she left the room, stuffing the CDs into her bag.

Minako reminded herself that her curiosity was a difficult beast to tame. In that regard, she pushed any potential blame that may arise from her actions to those that directed her to the pieces of information that had catalyzed her curiosity in the first place— _'Sorry, Hanamaki-san, Matsukawa-san.'_ — and those that didn't satisfy them by answering her questions afterward. _'Not sorry to that ding-dong.'_ It was poor justification, she knew. But she willfully pushed that thought aside as she made her way back home, faster than normal and hyper-aware of every step, as if she had committed a first-class felony.

At home she went straight up to her bedroom after a quick greeting to her father. There was much to dwell on as she stared blankly at the video cases in her bag, though she wasn't sure where to begin. It wasn't entirely a lie that her request for them was out of a genuine want to get used to watching the games and get better at writing for them. But she knew where her true curiosities lay. Part of her felt guilty for trying to dissect Oikawa like some fictional character in a book, as if he were just another literature project for school. She resigned herself to a sigh before stuffing the cases in her drawer before her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she smiled softly at the caller ID.

"Hey loser."

"How _dare_. Do you have no respect for your dear older brother?" Koichi gasped dramatically.

"Maybe I would if he called more often," Minako replied pointedly.

"Fine, fine, have no sympathy for the struggling university student. You were always cold, anyway."

Minako chuckled, "How's it going?"

"Pretty good. Exams are coming up so I've just been studying and trying not to die—the usual."

"You'll be fine, Koichi-nii. You've always done well."

"Yes, but I'm still dying," his groan echoed loudly through the ear piece.

Minako rolled her eyes, "Well, if it makes you feel better, I will be in your position in two more years."

"Enjoy it while you can, _imouto_ , high school is a cake walk in comparison."

"I suppose…" Minako settled into a chair, strumming her fingers against her desk.

The line was silent for a moment before Koichi piped up again, softer. "School's still tough though, no? I hope there's not too much on your plate."

Minako's gaze turned upward and she stared at the ceiling, "It's…manageable, for now. I guess I didn't expect the school paper to take up so much of my time and energy."

The eldest sibling chuckled, "Well of course; you're writing for a completely new topic, and pretty much managing another group of people."

Minako hummed in thought.

"Interhigh should be coming up, right?" he asked.

"Mhm."

"Yeah, that can get busy, I understand."

"It's earlier for the volleyball team than the basketball team, no?" she asked after a moment.

"Yeah, but the sentiments are all still the same," Koichi sighed wistfully.

"What do you mean?" Minako sat up straighter.

His chuckle echoed dully in her ear, and she could practically hear the nostalgic contemplation emanating off the older man.

"These tournaments mean a lot," he said simply.

"Elaborate, if you may."

Koichi was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, the tone of his voice had shifted. Minako could almost see and hear the memories he must have been reliving.

"It's an affirmation, almost, that all our dreams and hopes are…well, possible," he started slowly, speaking each word with careful deliberation.

"Go on," the writer urged, as she picked up a pen and opened her notebook.

He laughed, "Well, to a lot of people, sports is sometimes all they have—all they're good at. So many people's dreams, whether they're long term or not, ride on their performance at these tournaments. No one wants to see those dreams snuffed out as earlier as the first couple of stages of qualifiers."

Minako furrowed her brows, "Define…dreams."

"Well…it's different for everybody. Some just want to see victory with their friends, but others want to beat somebody…or beat themselves, who knows."

The words struck a familiar chord with the writer, as the image of a certain brunette setter flashed across her mind.

"I mean," he continued. "Can you imagine winning Nationals? How amazing of a feeling it would be, and to share that with the rest of your team? The whole country would see you as one of the best; you would have proved your worth to all those people or things that held you back. Not to mention the potential scholarships, sponsorships, positions on national teams; there are great career possibilities on the line, too."

"I get that, I really do, but to what degree can one push themselves to achieve those goals?" Minako asked tentatively.

Koichi let out a light laugh, "I'm the wrong person to ask, Minako, after what happened."

"Nii-san…"

"It's okay," Koichi reassured. "It's been a while. Regardless, everyone is different and things mean differently depending on who it is…what were we talking about again?"

Minako frowned, "I just…sometimes I want to know what peoples' motivations are…why do they feel that way, you know?" Her question came out more hesitant than she had thought, and part of her was left wondering why she was even bringing it her up to her brother.

Koichi was silent for a moment before saying, "Again, everyone's different. Human beings are strange creatures, sometimes it's just best to accept things the way they are and let it be."

"I guess…"

He chuckled, "Of course that's useless advice for a writer, but what do I know. Anyway, what is this _really_ about, hm?" His tone had shifted to suspicion in an instant.

"Nothing," Minako muttered. "Just random thoughts…"

"Yeah, right," Koichi snorted. "Nothing is ever random with you. Does this have something to do with Seijoh's volleyball team?"

"No," she replied quickly.

"… _Someone_ on the team…?"

"No!"

Koichi growled low, "I swear, if there's a boy bothering you, I'm taking the first flight out of Hong Kong and straight to Sendai and kicking his ass!"

Minako sighed, "Calm down, Nii-san. Sports has just been…a weird social study, if you will."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious!" Minako pouted. "We'll talk more when you come to visit, okay?"

"You're avoiding the question. Tell me, or I'll tell Tou-san," he warned.

"Believe me, he knows more than you…" Minako muttered under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Minako tapped her pen on her notebook lightly, glancing through the words she had written that echoed her brother's previous words. "Listen," she started, "it's late, but I'm glad you called. I hope things get better for you, school-wise. You'll do great, I know it."

Koichi sighed, relenting, and smiled, "Thanks, Minako. And you, too. Don't take on too much, yeah? And tell Tou-san I say hi."

"Of course. Bye, Nii-san."

She clicked the end button on her phone, mulling over her brother's words and trying to place them within the context of Seijoh specifically.

It was difficult to understand the magnitude of their hopes and dreams. Nationals was simple enough, but talent was talent regardless of placements and awards—that would always be acknowledged and lead to payoffs.

But it was different with Oikawa. It was always different with him. There always seemed to be more—more than Nationals, more than simply winning. Did he really crave recognition and validation beyond that?

Minako sighed irritably, trying her hardest to push those thoughts aside as she glanced back to her phone, smiling.

It had taken a good while for her brother to actually call as frequently as he did now. The morbid silence that had once overtaken the lives of the Sonozaki family had been debilitating—heartbreakingly so. But things were starting to flow back to what it used to be, even with full awareness that things inherently weren't the same anymore. But Minako took it, for it was something.

School, the paper, volleyball, her family…everything was so different this year. But still…it was something. And not as terrible as she once expected.

A work in progress.

It seemed that life, nowadays, was full of those.

* * *

 _ **imouto**_ **= little sister**

 **A/N: Despite all the edits made to this chapter, I still feel iffy about it. Then again, I feel iffy about everything all the time, so what do I know.**

 **Life is still life, but I hope things have been well on everyone's front! There's a lot more of now, so there's so much more pressure to deliver something decent haha.**

 **Thank you thank you THANK YOU to all that favorited and followed! There was quite a number this time around, and so my motivation was kicked into overdrive. So, again, thank you to all the new readers for tuning in! And a BIG thank you to thePotatoandtheEagle, Tora3, deborah-sucks, Dina Sana, and eunoiapaint for the reviews, and to angelcarstairs4679 for reviewing each chapter till now! I'm really glad the dynamic between Minako and Oikawa is resonating positively with everyone!**

 **Until next time, take care!**

 **-Anzu**


	7. The Tides of Victory

**Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: The Tides of Victory**

"And all eyes will be at Kaimei Arena Sendai today as the annual Volleyball Interhigh preliminaries kick-off, with many prefectural teams vying for the ever-coveted spot at Nationals! Be sure to make your way down at 4:30PM this evening to catch a glimpse of the many teams representing Miyagi prefecture! The competition is sure to be a tough one this year. Among these many teams includes returning Miyagi National representatives, Shiratorizawa Academy, as well as runner-ups, Aoba Johsai! We are excited to see what the tournament has in store, so be sure to tune in!"

Minako turned the TV off, staring ahead contemplatively as she nibbled away on her breakfast.

At long last, Interhigh preliminaries had arrived.

…Horridly inaccurate, she thought, for the time went by astonishingly fast and she found herself scrambling for last minute preparations for the school paper. She had only hoped that the hours she had dedicated to watching those many old videos would pay off in her written outcome.

And she could only hope that the many hours Seijoh had dedicated to their rigorous practices would pay off in their performance. Though she supposed she shouldn't be too worried about it—they certainly didn't seem so.

In the weeks leading up to Interhigh prelims, Minako kept her distance from practices in an effort to leave them to their own devices, not wanting to bother or disrupt their iron-bound focus. Though, as determined and focused as they were, they didn't seem anxious in the least. If anything, they seemed to share a collective sense of eagerness and excitement. Based on the frequent words she would exchange with Iwaizumi in class, Seijoh was confident in their ability to perform well at the preliminaries and even make it to Nationals. They were calm, collected, and self-assured—Minako couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride.

Oikawa, she realized, exuded the same sentiments, though she could tell underneath his veneer of confidence and determination there was a hard-edged tenacity. She could only guess as to what that was directed towards—or _whom_ —and out of courtesy she decided not to bring it up, choosing to only interact as minimally as possible for the needs of the school paper and her article, and otherwise leaving him be to his formidable work ethic. She was impressed, to say the least. Though her mind would periodically wander back to the two things that were of particular significance to the star setter—this Kageyama guy and the knee injury, both of which she had learned next to nothing about since first hearing about it.

It made no difference at this point, she thought as she began getting ready to head out for school.

The air was warm and inviting as she stepped out of the house, the comforting warmth of June already settling into place. Minako cleared her mind as she began her walk to school. _'It's going to be a long weekend.'_

A vibration in her pocket snapped her out of her calm and she pulled out her phone, staring at it questioningly as a message flashed on her screen from a mystery number.

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 _If you want a few words from the players, you should do it before we leave for the tournament. We might be too busy to talk at the stadium ;D_

 **[To:** _ **Unknown**_

 **From: Minako]**

 _Okay. Who is this?_

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 _Guess! xD_

 **[To:** _ **Unknown**_

 **From: Minako]**

 _How did you get this number?_

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 _Your friend! So, want a few words from me before the games? :P_

 **[To:** _ **Unknown**_

 **From: Minako]**

 _Don_ _'t message me anymore._

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 _T_T_

…

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 _Sono-chaaaaaan~~ ;_;_

…

…

' _This is going to be…a very long weekend indeed…'_

* * *

Kaimei Arena Sendai was not as packed as she expected, but there was still a significant amount of people occupying the space—from players to their families, each team's dedicated cheer squad and non-regular players to random spectators, the gym certainly had no shortage of bodies to fill the seats. Seijoh was just about to file in for their first match, and the anticipation seeped well throughout the large arena.

She had heeded the advice of the…unknown being that had messaged her in the morning. She had managed to speak to both the captain and vice-captain before they boarded their bus heading to the gym whilst expertly avoiding Oikawa in an effort to deter her already growing aggravation.

' _Remind me to kill Matsui for taking such unrepentant liberties…'_ She grumbled to herself before making her way to the stands, the opposite of where the Seijoh team was designated to. The gymnasium had already filled with humid, muggy air from the previous matches, leaving the air thick and uncomfortable. Minako wrinkled her nose at the smell that had settled in the area. Sweaty boys and dirty socks was always a pleasant combination.

The players started rolling in soon enough, jogging in step and preparing for warm-ups. Seijoh looked eager as ever—they were ready for battle. As soon as Oikawa jogged in, the gymnasium filled with high-pitched screams that echoed loudly in her eyes. Of course his fans wouldn't dare miss a second of the tournament qualifiers. Oikawa merely grinned and waved amiably at the crowds. Minako groaned, rolling her eyes.

And so it continued and the games started soon after. Seijoh had effortlessly shown the crowd what they should expect over the course of the next few days, if they were to advance. And advance they did, barely breaking a sweat. The first day was easy, having being exempt from the first round and only having to play one team. Senseki High School was admirable in their effort, though their skill did not come close to level exhibited by Seijoh. She could not say anything about level of work ethic or hours of practice put in, but it was simple enough to see the difference in natural, athletic talent and prowess. Seijoh excelled in all of it—it was almost unfair. Was it going to be more apparent as the qualifiers went on?

The next day was far more buzzing. The crowds got larger, the screams and shouts louder, the energy on the court far more palpable. Minako sat dutifully in her seat, a perfect vantage point for both sides of the court as Seijoh's first couple of matches commenced, scribbling down her notes with practiced ease. They never faltered in their momentum, for their bodies spoke it all. They were in peak condition and, respectfully, showed no mercy. It made the writer's job surprisingly painless and, dare she admit, fun.

Johzenji High began filing in for the semi-final match as Seijoh switched uniforms. Minako eyed the opposing team carefully; All young, fresh-eyed boys that bounded onto the court with such youthful vigor. Most were all unfamiliar faces, from what she could remember after watching all those old videos—first years, she assumed. So eager and excited, only to be defeated by the might of Seijoh. Or, so, she presumed.

Seijoh had reached this point so many times in the past; the one match before finals. And they never stopped there. It was only fair to assume that this year would be no different. The Miyagi teams were good, but not on the same level.

Yet there was something about Johzenji that piqued Minako's interest.

Every other team that Seijoh had played before always held an air of nervousness and anxiety. They were all talented players, but they ultimately lost. And it seemed like they all _knew_. It wasn't quite the same as giving up, or not even trying, but rather a deference to Seijoh's superiority on court; an acceptance of the natural divide in talent and strength, and the will to just play the match with all they had despite the deep recesses of their minds and hearts that told them they would still lose.

Minako felt a pang of guilt wash over her as her thoughts continued. Her brother's words echoed in her mind again. She glanced back down at Johzenji, clad in their bright orange uniforms.

They were all young guys, mostly first years she reminded herself, and they had made it to semifinals. That was an impressive feat in and of itself and spoke volumes of their potential. But they did not look nervous, or anxious, nor did their eyes accept their possible defeat.

No. They looked…happy.

The energetic Johzenji boys joked around with each other and jumped all over the court as if they were little kids at a birthday party. Even as the game progressed their enthusiasm never wavered, not once, even as Seijoh took the first set. They were skilled and powerful, and the point difference wasn't all too great which kept Seijoh on their toes, but they were largely raw and unrefined, taking to the court as clumsily as newborns. They had no sense of set formation, and their attacks were wild and uninhibited, and receives were rough and many times random. There was so much room for growth, and they clearly hadn't even began to brush the surface of their potential.

Yet they were still…happy.

Johzenji kept up with Seijoh for the entirety of the second set, even pushing the score close to thirty points. It was now that Minako was beginning to see the exhaustion gripping at Seijoh's bodies, and how their casual confidence warped into a serious determination.

Oikawa was up to serve. The sweat lined his face, gleaming slightly underneath the blanket of the bright arena lights. He was breathing heavily, but his face was passive, still and serene. The only thing Minako could discern was the steely gaze that scanned the court in front of him, calculating and methodical—he wanted to end it.

Minako gripped her pen tightly.

And just as quick, like a rock to a still pond, his energy burst. Oikawa's body rippled as he tossed the ball into the air, taking two thunderous steps forward before propelling his arm forward up and onto the ball. It went soaring past the net, in an almost impossible trajectory, and straight onto Johzenji's side, with the latter barely even flinching.

The crowd was silent for a moment. And then erupted.

It was just like the first time all those weeks ago with Seijoh's first practice match against Oomisaki, Minako reminisced. The infamous killer serve of Oikawa Tooru left everyone in utter awe. Minako whistled under her breath, impressed, with the slightest of smirks gracing her lips.

Seijoh cheered as Oikawa came up again for the serve. One more point and they would be off for finals. The famed setter breathed a long breath before tossing the ball up once again and jumping forward to serve, letting the ball soar ahead. One of the Johzenji boys jolted for the receive, hyper-aware of Oikawa's serve, wincing harshly as the ball ricocheted off the side of his forearm and into the back area of the court, out of bounds.

The whistle gave a long shrill, and the cheers ruptured. Seijoh gathered together excitedly, patting each other wildly as they celebrated.

Minako jotted down her notes with a smile on her face before looking back at the defeated team.

They still looked happy.

Though tired and worn-out, and hints of disappointment etched onto their faces, the Johzenji boys kept smiling, giving themselves praise and excited words of encouragement. Even as they lined up at the net, shaking the hands of the Seijoh players, they smiled as amiably as they could. It wasn't the kind to placate the rules of civility or good sportsmanship, she noticed, for she was sure those grins weren't sentiments directed at their defeaters—but it was something for themselves. Like saying, 'let's do this again, it was fun!'.

Minako was taken aback.

Such pure, unabashed joy towards something was most definitely refreshing. Though she was certain they would hold some degree of frustration and sadness over their close victory, it didn't seem like this was something to bring them down. Ultimately, they looked like they were having the time of their lives, no matter how many mistakes they made. That in itself made it worth it.

Did Oikawa feel that way? Such an innocent and unrelenting joy and love for the game, with no conditions attached? Minako wasn't sure. The way he described his love for the game during his player spotlight interview seemed distant, as if the years themselves had diluted it.

As she made her way out of the main area, she paused at the bulletin with the prelim match-ups posted. So many teams, so many losses. The poster had been updated, highlighted in red, boldly showing the final round of qualifiers—Aoba Johsai vs. Shiratorizawa Academy. Minako hummed contemplatively.

Seijoh had congregated near the exit as their locker room meeting ended. The starters greeted her calmly as she approached the captain for a few words. Oikawa could be seen grinning at her from behind.

"So, impressed yet?" he asked playfully as the captain left.

"I've never been unimpressed…" she muttered.

"The teams were good this year, especially Johzenji," Iwaizumi said from behind her shoulder.

Minako regarded him curtly, nodding, "I was surprised that they were mostly new blood."

"Yeah," the ace continued, "the team dynamic has definitely changed."

"What do you mean?"

"Johzenji used to be a powerhouse, to some degree," Iwaizumi voiced. "They even beat Shiratorizawa one year, but who knows how long ago. Their defensives were great, yet the past few years, as their roster changed, left them in a worse position. They haven't advanced very far till now."

"Their technical skills were rough, though," Oikawa piped in. "They're good players, but need to hone their abilities."

"I noticed…they weren't quite as graceful as, well, you guys," Minako pointed out, shrugging her shoulders.

Oikawa smiled wide, "Wow, Sono-chan, I feel so humbled hearing those words coming from _you_."

Minako glowered, "You make me wanna take it back." She sighed as she adjusted her school bag. "Anyway, I'll take my leave now. Good job again."

"See you tomorrow," the two boys waved as Minako made her exit.

If a group of unrefined players, still young and new to the mettle of high school volleyball, could advance as far as semifinals, then it was no contention that a team as experienced and skilled as Seijoh could beat a powerhouse like Shiratorizawa. Anything was possible, especially in a game like volleyball, where each second, each step and micro-movement, could cause a shift in tides.

And the tides were certainly shifting.

* * *

If the previous day was a packed occasion at Kaimei Arena, then the writer was not entirely prepared for the day of finals. The fanfare boomed steadily throughout the entirety of the gymnasium and the excited buzz of the supporters and onlookers reverberated through every corner. Such was the effect of a battle between two powerhouses. Minako could hardly think amidst it all.

Seijoh's cheer squad seemed to have multiplied, amplified by the addition of friends and family members. Shiratorizawa's cheer squad itself took up half of their side, supplied by cheerleaders and a band in addition to school students and faculty members.

Minako, unable to find a good seat in the chaos, chose a spot in the middle to stand and take in the court. It was finals; the teams had the entire floor to themselves and the grueling five sets they would play, as opposed to the usual three. Minako settled herself with the inevitable stretch the game would be and hoped her legs would be able to handle it.

The players began filling into the court, and the cheers erupted. The mood on the floor seemed to have shifted dramatically to what she had witnessed the day before. No longer was it the cool and collected Seijoh team, but a team with a hunger for victory and the tense conviction to overcome an age-old foe. Minako tapped her pen to her lips as her eyes trailed to the other side.

Shiratorizawa Academy, for the sheer amount of cheers and shouts they garnered, remained as stoic as ever. They were seasoned veterans, and this was just another battle to them. They had tasted victory several times and this was just another stepping stone towards it. To be in such a position must have been liberating, and that agitated the writer. Their seeming nonchalance was vexing. But she knew, behind those calm and stern visages, was the fire to fight—to play to the very best of their abilities and showcase their new strength. They were a powerful team regardless, and she had no doubt that today would reiterate that.

Minako's scrutiny extended towards the majority of the team. A few members were unknown to her; first years, eager newbies but still maintaining that steely demeanor demonstrated by the rest of the team. She immediately recognized the the tall, lanky boy with fiery red hair that seemed to defy gravity. His eyes were as wide and manic as they were in the videos she saw, and his grin seemed far too savage to maintain any sort of genuine happiness or care. And beside him, standing tall and broad, was the infamous Ushijima Wakatoshi. He had certainly gotten taller and bulkier than what she had seen his videos, though she was sure those videos did little justice to their appearances.

As their warm-ups continued, the writer couldn't help but drag her gaze back to Seijoh. The third-years were fierce in their resolution, it was clear in the way their eyes narrowed on their targets, on the steadiness of their voice and how it carried out its orders. She then, finally, looked over at Oikawa, dutifully tossing the balls to his teammates. He looked as resolute as ever, cheery even. He paid no lingering mind to his opponents warming up on the other side of the net, but she noticed those few seconds of momentary break in focus; how his eyes would glance over quickly to the other side and his lips would pull down slightly, and the tension in his shoulders rights after he did so.

Minako expected no less.

As the whistle blew and the players settled into their positions, Minako glanced back at her notes from the day before. Among all the technicalities, player statistics, and key moments from each set that she jotted down, she couldn't help but notice the overwhelming focus she made on the players themselves—not from their plays or the points, blocks, or serves they made, but from them, and _just them_. Their expressions, reactions, and even the minute details of their bodies, it gave Minako an insight that she accompanied with the words spoken by the brother all those days ago. She remembered the joy and excitement exhibited by Johzenji and wondered if that same joy and excitement would be coursing through Seijoh, especially now.

A part of her was saddened at the thought that that may not have been at the forefront.

The first set progressed steadily. Each point earned rebutted by a score from the opposing team. Neither Seijoh nor Shiratorizawa faltered in their movements, and soon the set closed with a close game of 23-25, taken by Shiratorizawa.

It was far from over.

Neither teams seemed to have even broken a sweat as they huddled together and prepared for the second set. The air had gotten muggy but the enthusiasm still radiated from the crowd as their cheers echoed throughout the room. Minako made quick notes in her notebook before the second set started.

Seijoh started with a fire she had yet to see at full capacity. Their drive pushed through in the beginning as their plays got tighter and they got more in tune with each other's movements; they were perfectly in sync. Vice-captain Sakai's receives were nearly flawless, and Oikawa always timed his tosses precisely, allowing Iwaizumi or the captain to execute their spikes.

Shiratorizawa always answered back as determinately. Number 5, the spiky red-head, would block many of the incoming spikes with a premonitory accuracy. The way his eyes would scan the court wildly and the speed and agility at which his body would move made his blocks truly intimidating.

Seijoh didn't relent. Matsukawa responded with equally powerful blocks, casting broad shadows in front of him as he lunged upwards. Oikawa's eyes would dart towards the ball and then to the players, moving with deliberate strides as he set up for his characteristic tosses.

And so the second set was taken by Seijoh, and the cheer squad boomed.

" _Go, go, go, go, Seijoh!"_

" _Push it, push it, Seijoh!"_

Minako smiled to herself, scribbling in her notebook. Her ears rang as yells and cheers continued, brushing past her annoyance to focus on the game—a game that could easily be taken by Seijoh. All they had to do was keep up their momentum. The tides were rising in their favor.

As the third set started, Minako started to notice how much heavier each breath became for the players. The lines of exhaustion were slowly starting to creep upon Seijoh, though their eyes betrayed nothing. Her eyes shifted to Shiratorizawa and she bit her lips anxiously.

They played with a vigor and revitalization that should not have been possible after an hour of game-play. Number 3, their setter, was almost perfect in his toss executions. Ushijima would respond in kind—his power could be heard by the thunderous impact of hand on volleyball as he spiked.

' _He's left handed…'_ Minako thought, as she continually observed the Shiratorizawa ace. His power was not waning, and she could see the toll it was taking on Otsuka, as well as Watari, as they lunged for the receives. _'No wonder blocking or receiving them is difficult.'_

The third set was close, very close Only a few more point on either side to decide the set. Minako's eyes, almost instinctively, went to Oikawa as he came up to serve.

He was tired. But as he took a few deep breaths and tossed the ball in the air, he soared with an energy that tore away at that fatigue and the ball tore through the court and onto the other side of the net, landing in-bounds and bouncing off to the side.

The gymnasium shuddered with cheers. Seijoh hollered as they prepared for the next jump serve, anticipation keeping them on their toes, as the realization sunk that just a couple more service aces and they would take the third set. Oikawa did not lose his composure. In near-perfect form, he tossed the ball once more into the air, jumping up and connecting his hand to it with a loud thud. The ball flew with a blinding speed, and Minako knew that it would remain untouched as it hit the ground on the opposite side of the net.

Shiratorizawa's libero jerked to the side in a flash, receiving the ball steadily though inaccurately.

Minako cursed under her breath as their setter tossed the ball and Ushijima delivered it onto Seijoh's side of the court with a powerful spike, and watching as several players tried to receive it only to come up short.

Shiratorizawa's cheer team burst into cacophonous chants as they came up to serve.

" _Shiiiiratorizawa!"_

Oikawa's jaw tensed as his eyes narrowed menacingly towards the lumbering Shiratorizawa ace, who looked as nonchalant as ever preparing for his serve. Minako could only wonder how the agitation was getting to him once again.

Ushijima's jump serve flew across the court as Seijoh lunged for the receive, faltering in their movements and causing the ball to escape their control. The gym erupted in more cheers and Ushijima prepped for the set point.

He sprang into the air, and without losing a second connected his hand to the ball and sent it soaring over the other of the net and straight onto Seijoh's side, hitting the ground loudly, not even a moment given for Seijoh to think let alone receive.

The whistle blew, and the cheers continued. The tides were shifting.

As the teams huddled together, breathing heavily and sweat coating their faces and dripping onto their uniforms, Minako could notice the growing unease on their expressions. This was a position they were probably placed in many times in the past. And whereas they definitely had the strength to win the match, the odds lay in Shiratorizawa's favor. Where Seijoh was growing more and more weary, Shiratorizawa seemed to only be gaining strength. It was a frightening concept for the players, she was sure, but it had to be pushed past in order to achieve the results needed. Minako looked back at Oikawa, his focus clear and distinct. But where his focus remained steady also lay the slowly forming cracks of that perfect veneer. The mental and physical toll were adding up.

The whistle blew once more, and the players settled into position for the fourth set. Shiratorizawa started with an early lead, spike after spike landing harshly on ground like an unrelenting reminder. Seijoh answered accordingly, as the players began barking out their commands with increased volume.

"One touch!"

"Got it!"

"Get it, Otsuka!"

"Yes!"

The crowd cheered as Seijoh started racking up the points, slowly catching up to Shiratorizawa.

"Nice receive!"

"Oikawa!"

"Makki!"

The crowds cheered louder. Chants could be heard reverberating throughout the gymnasium, and a group of girls neared her squealed out Oikawa's name.

" _Shiiiiiiratorizawa!"_

"Chance ball!"

"Semi!"

"Go, Ushijima!"

Ushijima jumped in the air, higher than Minako had seen him do the entire game, and sent the ball straight down to the other side of the net past Seijoh's defenses. The cheers got even louder.

"Go, Wakatoshi!"

The ball slammed onto the ground harshly again as Ushijima landed with impeccable grace from another spike.

Minako scribbled down noted while struggling to keep her eyes over the court. Shiratorizawa had pulled into the lead again, and the entire gymnasium had started with rumble with anticipation. Seijoh was panting, looking up at Shiratorizawa in irritation, as the latter began prepping for their next serve. The serve flew, received expertly by Watari and spiked over by Hanamaki. But Shiratorizawa's speed began to build up again, as their number 5 jumped up for another one of his sporadic blocks. The ball drifted behind him to their setter before being tossed back up straight into Ushijima's trajectory. Oikawa ran up to the net to face him and jumped upwards in perfect timing. Ushijima's form remained suspended in the air for half a second, before bringing his arm down like a firing canon, and sending the ball straight down towards Oikawa's up-stretched arms. The ball smacked against his hands brutally, his face contorting into a painful wince at the force that caused them to bend back awkwardly, before flying off to the side and out of bounds.

The crowd boomed.

Oikawa landed, his legs wobbling slightly before they gave out, and he landed onto his back with a dull thud.

Ushijima looked down at him with implacable disregard.

The cracks started to rupture.

Minako gripped the railings tightly and her brows furrowed as she steadied her gaze on Oikawa. She saw it, beneath that confidence and calm that he had exhibited to her since the very first day they met, those lines that pulled down at his expression uncharacteristically.

Panic.

Before she could think further, Iwaizumi jogged up to him, pulling him up abruptly and giving him a loud smack on the back.

"Don't mind!"

"Don't mind!"

The panic never left. Shiratorizawa was one point away from victory, but if Seijoh could push forward they could easily turn it around.

Minako quickly scribbled down her notes, noticing how the ink came out much darker and leaving indents on the page. She loosened her grip.

The whistle blew and the serve floated.

"Careful!"

Watari, though unsteady, received the float serve and sent the ball to Oikawa. The panic vanished momentarily as Oikawa's eyes narrowed in on the ball and he tossed the ball to the far side of their court.

"Iwa-chan!"

Iwaizumi jumped upwards with a increased vitality and spiked the ball down. Shiratorizawa's libero received it expertly and sent the ball once more to their setter. Everything suddenly seemed to move in slow motion. Shiratorizawa's setter looked ahead, preparing to toss towards Iwaizumi's side, and the Seijoh players flocked over and prepped for their defense. Oikawa froze.

"No!"

The setter's finger clicked onto the ball, and it flew behind him.

Ushijima ran forward like a battering ram, jumping up even higher and shooting his arm down with immaculate force.

Oikawa ran up and prepped to jump. He wavered, for a mere second, and Minako's eyes darted to his injured knee, missing the wince that blemished his face. Oikawa jumped up to connect his hands to the ball. It ricocheted off, bending his hands back again, and flew behind him.

"ONE TOUCH!" He screamed.

Seijoh, frenzied and surprised, turned and threw themselves onto the floor to receive. The edge of Captain Otsuka's hand brushed the ball sending it slightly off to the side, where it landed onto the ground, bouncing a few times before rolling to a halt.

The whistle blew. The crowd erupted into booming applauses and cheers. Shiratorizawa jumped into the air with loud hollers and whoops, celebrating.

And it was over.

Minako stared at the court, mouth slightly agape, as she watched Seijoh linger in their last positions, staring down as their sweat dripped onto the floor.

The captain got up first, pulling vice-captain Sakai up by the waist before going over to the other members and lifting them up gently, patting their shoulders. Oikawa didn't look up, even as his captain encouraged him dutifully. Both teams lined up.

"Thank you for the game!"

"Thank you for the game!"

The whistle blew again, and an announcer picked up the microphone.

"With a 3-1 match, the winner of this year's Summer qualifiers, defending champions, and representing Miyagi in Tokyo for Interhigh, is Shiratorizawa Academy!"

The crowd cheered and the fanfare from the band began to echo throughout the room. The teams jogged up to pay their respects.

As Oikawa came up to Ushijima, the two shared a prolonged, tense stare. No words were exchanged as they reached over to shake the other's hand. Oikawa frowned deeply, before turning away and continuing towards referee and then the Seijoh crowd.

"Thank you very much!"

The dejection on their face was evident, and they all refused to meet each other's eyes, staring instead at the ground as they cleaned up quickly to allow for the awards ceremony. They stood tall as Shiratorizawa was presented their medals and trophy. They nodded stoically as their own runner-up medals were given to them. But that frustration never left their faces.

Minako was left thinking of what her brother had said to her on the phone all those days ago when they last spoke. She was no stranger to the notion that these tournaments meant much for the players. There certainly was a lot on the line. To have those denied to you despite all the hard work and effort put into it could only be disheartening. She glanced back at Oikawa, who was biting his lip harshly as his medal laid over his shoulders. With a final bow and words of thanks, the players began to exit. Minako's gaze followed Oikawa's form and she couldn't help but notice the extra weight he was placing on his left leg. He paused for a moment, glancing up to where the writer was, giving her the briefest of stares. It was blank. Nothing to say, nothing to prove, just empty. He turned and exited the court.

Minako sighed and finished up her notes before heading down and towards the player locker rooms.

She ran into the vice-captain first. His eyes were red around the edges and he offered a weak smile upon seeing her.

Minako gave him a apologetic smile, "That was really a great game, Sakai-san."

"Heh, not great enough, apparently," he noted sadly.

She shook her head, "I disagree. I know it's not the best time, but mind giving me a few words?"

Sakai nodded, offering her what insight he could about the game.

Seijoh had certainly played splendidly. Their strength was evident in the force of their attacks, but also in the crispness of their defense, and the overall cohesion at which they played. When Minako approached the captain, he only reiterated her own thoughts, though he was emotionally more stable.

As the captain left, she remained, shifting around awkwardly, wondering if it was worth waiting for Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Just as she thought that, Iwaizumi stepped out. He looked to her immediately, giving a small wave.

"Great game," she said meekly, feeling awkward sharing such sentiments when that was the last thing they probably wanted to hear.

"Thanks," he responded with a small smile. "If you're looking for Oikawa, he's still inside. I don't really think he's up for chatting right now…"

Minako hummed, "That's fine. But…is his knee okay?"

Iwaizumi paused, regarding the writer steadily, "Yeah. He just needs to rest it."

She nodded, "Okay. Well…I'll head off now. Again, great game."

Iwaizumi nodded, waving farewell to the girl as she turned and took her leave.

Amidst loss, strength should be celebrated even more. At least, that's what Minako thought. Seijoh was a relentless team. They made finals time and time again but still would always come up short, yet that never took away from what they had accomplished, and how strong they really were. There was no doubt, and certainly no one would contest that belief, right? Minako bit her lip contemplatively as she made her way to the subway station.

Yes, they were strong. No matter the wins or losses, their strength could never be put into question. So…ultimately it didn't matter then. They didn't make Nationals, but they were still excellent players. Opportunities would be presented to them regardless because their skill provoked it.

So what if they lost? It's no big deal. The frustration would wear off eventually, and there was still Spring Nationals to work towards. It was fine…it would be fine.

So what was it about Oikawa's expression that bothered the pondering writer? She understood his determination in beating Shiratorizawa and Ushijima, and this loss probably hit him hard. But it felt as if he had been slapped in the face, over and over again. Each denial, each missed receive, each block shut down by the sheer force of Ushijima's spikes cut down on Oikawa's confidence and he began to fissure. But it was the panic that really confused Minako, as if his determination and need to win was almost desperate. What was Oikawa Tooru trying to prove? Who was he trying to prove it to? Why was the denial of victory so debilitating for him? What was really at stake? Oikawa was a talented player no doubt, and he would be blessed with many opportunities to grow even more in the future, professionally or otherwise. So why were these moments so crucial?

Minako tried to rationalize her brother's words with what she saw today. But part of her just couldn't understand. And she wanted to to. She wanted to know, because the other part of her wanted to berate the Seijoh setter for his lack of consideration towards his own body, to tell him to stop thinking about it so much and to stop taking it so personally because _it_ _'s okay_! She paused for a moment and was left wondering, as the subway rocked gently on the tracks and her grip on her notebook tightened, why _she_ cared so much.

"Argh!" She gripped her head in frustration, her fringe falling over her eyes messily. She ignored the surprised looks thrown her way from passengers and exited the subway in a huff as it reached her station. She made her way swiftly home, opening the front door with more force than intended before going into the living room.

Her father glanced up, startled, before smiling softly. "Hey Minako, how was the match?"

"Seijoh lost," she stated firmly, a deep frown pulling at her lips.

"Oh," Hideki pouted slightly. "That's okay, though. I'm sure it was a great match."

"Yeah, it was," she barked, louder and more forcibly than the intended meaning, ignoring the shock on her father's face at her tone. "But that's okay, right? That they lost. It's okay, right?"

"Uh…" he stuttered uneasily. "Of course it's okay, but why—"

"Good. Thanks," she turned on her heels, blowing the fringe out of her sight, and stomped up to her room.

It was okay.

But it was not okay! Not from the way Oikawa was reacting.

Was all of this fretting worth it? Because the world would move on, and everyone would have to move along with it. Minako groaned heavily as she lazily tossed herself onto her awaiting bed.

They needed time. Oikawa needed time. And time was what she would give, but her curiosity, as she had settled with a long time ago, was unrelenting. And it would be sated, with time.

But until then, it was okay. The tides of victory did not rise in Seijoh's favor, but the winds were unpredictable and anything could happen. And they would. There were chances for it to happen. Their story was far from over.

Yes…it would be okay.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey! I'm still alive! Crazy!**

 **I didn't edit this chapter as thoroughly as I normally do because I just wanted it out. Which is no excuse, because it's been written/completed for...quite some time. Hah, time. Something I seem to never be able to manage properly.**

 **Anyway, here it is! Sorry for any grammatical/vocab mistakes there most likely are. Also, question: How does one write a volleyball match and make it engaging and exciting?! Answer: Tbd. I tried.**

 **As always, thank you thank you thank you to all you lovely readers out there for the support! Shout outs to Tora3, curlystruggle, guest, angelcarstairs4679, SumCheeze, and AkitaWF for your wonderful reviews! And thank you to everyone who favourited and followed! Your presence keeps me going!**

 **Till next time friends, which will hopefully still be in this century.**

 **\- Anzu**


	8. Ceaselessly Row On

**Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu! or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Ceaselessly Row On**

If time is was what needed to revitalize after Interhigh qualifiers, then Minako had long lost track of it. Just as fast as preliminaries had happened, so had exams, and the student body had no time to reel from Aoba Johsai's heartbreaking loss at the tournament for their attention was swiftly taken away by the equally heartbreaking reality of academia and all its pressures. In a sense, it was kind of good for the writer; being able to take a break from the school paper was what she needed to refocus herself. She didn't even want to think of the stress that she would have been buried underneath if she had to cover the team's progress during exam season if they made it to Nationals.

She only felt slightly guilty for feeling that way.

Minako had buried herself in her textbooks and class notes and almost forgot about the the road to Interhigh prelims. She had hardly even seen Oikawa except for when he would meet up with Iwaizumi during lunch. And from the looks of it, he seemed to have been doing okay. He didn't show otherwise. But if these past few months had told her anything about the determined setter was that he was good showing people exactly what he wanted them to see. But the writer had a feeling, and it was the same feeling she had when she first met the boy.

A moderate handful of exchanges she shared with Iwaizumi told her that, yes, Oikawa took the loss hard but it also seemed to ignite yet another fire in him that even exam prep wouldn't quell; he hadn't stopped practicing since that weekend. She couldn't say she was surprised, or even annoyed really. But it left her with more questions than answers.

Just as quickly as exams had come and gone, Summer had truly arrived in all its uncomfortable, sweltering glory, and Minako soon found herself frequenting cafes blessed with air conditioning and sweet iced lattes whilst ignoring her boisterous best friend's constant complaints of having to suffer through another class of summer school. Instead, she would be staring at her laptop screen and the accursed blinking of her cursor on yet another woefully empty page of a word processor, wondering why it was she even decided to become a writer.

Only one week in.

Ah yes, summers were great.

Minako sighed, running a hand through her messy fringe as she sipped on her second iced latte. What she would do to occupy her time for little over another month she had no idea, if she was already feeling the burnout of writing so soon into vacation. She stared back at her laptop screen and frowned.

The summer writing competition's deadline was just around the corner, and nothing could prevent the acerbic tug at her face when she skimmed through what meager words she powered through for it. Everything about her submission was…dull. It was the perpetual curse that plagued every writer, and Minako was no exception. She had only wished that it would have delayed its arrival till after the deadline.

She didn't even understand the reasoning behind the immense pressure she was putting on herself; she never took these kinds of things to heart. Writing was always something she would love, regardless of accolades or recognition, so she approached every opportunity for it entirely on her terms—for fun, enjoyment, and the pure love of it. She had seen the flyer for it all those weeks ago and decided that maybe she would give it a try, for fun, no strings attached. But then a string _had_ been attached…in the form of one tall, handsome volleyball setter and her brain had started rerouting.

 _Oikawa_ _'s eyes lit up and he grinned, "So, are you going to do it?"_

" _I'm not sure yet…"_

" _You should," he said plainly._

" _Most of the creative writing I did last year was for the paper…I don't know how well I'd fare in a competition…"_

" _So?" Oikawa looked at her pointedly, fiddling with the ball in his hands. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't try."_

Minako pursed her lips, strumming her fingers lightly on her keyboard. A buzz on the table jolted her out of her thoughts as her hands went to grab the phone vibrating beside her.

"Yes, Matsui, what do you hate today?"

"Everything!" her belligerent best friend screeched.

"Well, that was certainly a jump from yesterday's _'the suffocating societal structure of the academic system'_ ," Minako chuckled.

"I don't understand, I just don't!" Matsui whined.

"I think that's what summer classes are supposed to help with…"

"I'm a fluent Japanese speaker; I'm a native Japanese person! Why do I need to take supplementary classes for _Japanese_?!"

Minako's brow arched, "Those are the exact reasons you used to _not_ study for the exam. You are getting no sympathy from me."

There was a loud, exaggerated sigh on the other side of the line, followed by a string of colorful curses and unintelligible noises, and then a momentary pause. "Anyway, what about you? How's the first week of vacation been going? Distract me, please, and let me live some sort of joy vicariously through you."

"Well, joy probably isn't the right word…" Minako slumped in her chair.

"Why? Your story getting you down? I thought you were almost done?"

"I am," the writer narrowed her eyes at the laptop screen, "But I'm just…I don't know, not feeling it, I guess?"

"Maybe you just need a change of pace?" Matsui suggested.

"Like what?"

"Do my homework for me!"

"Do you want to learn _anything_?"

Matsui groaned, "I'm going to die in this classroom, I swear."

"You are never allowed to tell me I'm being too dramatic…" Minako muttered under her breath.

There was another sigh before Matsui spoke up again, "Anyway, I don't know. Maybe try writing something different? Or reading? Or editing? Didn't you say sometimes editing helped tighten your noggin-cap?"

"I don't believe those were my exact words…"

"Well, try them! Or something, because the deadline is soon."

"I know…" Minako sighed. "I guess you're right. Just change it up for a little bit."

"Good!" Matsui chirped. "Now, about my Japanese homework…"

Minako laughed, "Goodbye, Matsui."

She pressed the end button on her call, cutting off Matsui's defiant yelps, before staring back at her laptop. She opened up her documents explorer and scanned the contents of her various folders. She had began to doubt her friend's advice as her spirits diminished even further while looking through her various works, none piquing her interest in the slightest. Till one, buried in one of the folders of her school newspaper folder, caught her eye. Surprised, but also entirely unsurprised, by her train of thought, she stared at the title curiously.

 _Seijoh Starters Player Spotlight - Oikawa Tooru_

Most of her work on the player spotlights had ended up being canceled, much to her dismay. Or rather postponed, as Asana had reassured. Writing and publishing spotlights for all the starters before Interhigh prelims did end up being quite a hassle and near impossible given the time frame they were working with, so her editor had decided to only stick to third year regulars, and had requested Minako to keep what she already had for the second years to use for the following year. _'But things will surely change next year, no? What I've written for them may not age well…'_ Asana had assured her that things would be figured out, in an effort to placate a feeling of uselessness and time wasted on work that wouldn't even be published—a feeling that Minako honestly didn't even feel. She had only properly written out Oikawa's and Iwaizumi's, anyway.

She continued staring at the document title, finger hovering above her track pad, before hesitantly clicking it and watching it open. She gave it a quick look, finding herself surprised with how much she actually liked what she wrote—a welcome feeling from the dejection she harbored over her creative writing piece for the competition. A thought came to her as she suddenly glanced down at the corner of the screen where the date displayed.

July 19th.

Tomorrow was Oikawa's birthday.

"Hm…" she hummed aloud, tapping her fingers on the table.

With a sudden electric jolt through her body, she picked up the plastic cup of her drink, downing the remains of its contents before beginning to tap furiously onto her keyboard. Nothing much had to be changed, just a few edits here and there.

There was certainly enough time to finish it by tomorrow.

* * *

Minako put away a stack of papers in the newspaper club room, glancing around the room once last time for anything missed, before exiting slowly and shutting the door behind her. There was no particular reason for why she found herself in the club room the next day, passing the time dully. She originally had planned to meet Matsui for lunch and offer some relief upon her academically-induced woes only to later find out that she didn't even have a class today.

Or maybe that was the excuse she used to show up at school to meet up with a certain brunette setter that had just finished up a week of summer training camp and would undoubtedly still be occupying the gymnasium for his increased training regimen.

And who's birthday it also happened to be.

…

No…it definitely wasn't that.

Minako strode towards the gymnasium, only wondering what the chaos would have been like earlier in the week when the select few high schools in and around Sendai arrived for their training camp. The gymnasium doors were open as she neared it, held ajar by the doorstop, and Minako heard the familiar squeaks of shoes gliding across hardwood floors and a ball steadily thudding against the ground. She stepped inside, carefully and quietly.

Minako couldn't tell how long Oikawa must have been in there practicing. Unlike normal school hours, or if there there were other formal activities planned, the gym usually remained open during the day over the summer for students to use it as they wished. And based on the way his breath heaved heavily and the sweat that clung onto his clothes, it didn't take much for her to figure that he had probably taken much advantage of that privilege.

And there it was, yet again—that tenacious drive that Minako couldn't quite understand yet simultaneously admired. It was a wonder how this boy managed to find time for _anything_ else since volleyball seemed to consolidate most of it.

The setter turned suddenly, his focus broken for a moment as he heard the girl's footsteps. His mouth opened ajar, surprised, as he stared in confusion.

Minako waved awkwardly, "Uh, sorry to interrupt."

Oikawa ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly. "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting anyone."

"Can you take a break for a moment, spare me some time?" the question came out more timid than she had intended. She disregarded it as she walked closer to the boy.

His eyebrows rose a fraction before grinning, "Sure."

The two walked over to a bench perched to the side of the volleyball net and settled themselves in. Minako could feel the heat emanating from Oikawa in waves.

"How was the training camp?" Minako asked casually after a moment.

"Good. Tiring, hot, but good," he replied, smiling, taking deep inhales as he caught his breath.

"Any interesting schools?"

"They're all interesting—at least they have the potential, with the right training and discipline."

"And Shiratorizawa wasn't there?"

Oikawa scoffed, "No, they train by themselves, on their own grounds—kept in their stables and bred carefully and without interference like the prize horses they are."

There was a brief silence before Minako burst out laughing. Unable to hide her amusement, she turned to Oikawa with an entertained smirk "Wow how colorful, Oikawa-san. Have you given thought to pursuing writing?"

"As if," he guffawed, turning to her with a challenging simper. "But how fun would it be if we were rivals in that, hm?"

"I would, respectfully, destroy you."

"Your confidence is endearing, Sono-chan."

Minako smirked once more. She stared at the expanse of hardwood flooring across the gym, watching as the light from the streaming rays of sunshine reflected off of them. "Interhigh prelims, straight to studying, then exams, right into a week-long intensive camp; that's quite impressive, if I do say so myself."

The setter puffed his chest out slightly, a hint of pride blooming across his expression. "Just the regularly scheduled program of yours truly"

Minako snorted, "And you didn't fail any of your courses?"

"Of course not" he protested. "I get great grades, for your information."

"Sure, sure," the writer gave the boy an incredulous look, if only to relish at the annoyed grimace he shot back. The air stilled as the two became quite for a moment.

"I hope you're giving yourself some time off," Minako said after a while.

"I do what I can," he answered absentmindedly, staring at the girl curiously.

"But not today?"

Oikawa shrugged.

"I mean, it _is_ your birthday," she continued, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small pile of papers neatly stapled together and placed in a folder. She turned to him in her seat and extended her hand. "Happy birthday."

Oikawa blinked, unmoving for a moment. He reached over, gently grabbing the folder, but his brows remained set in its confusion. "What's this?".

"Player spotlights for all regulars turned out to be a more harrowing ordeal than we originally planned, so we stuck to just third years for now," Minako fiddled with the hem of her shorts. "But when that was decided, I had pretty much already finished yours. Rather than wait to publish it next year—because things might change, who knows—I figured I could just give it to you now…"

There was a lingering silence that followed. The air rustling the leaves on the trees outside was almost deafening in comparison. Minako stared down at her lap, awkward and uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden, before snapping herself out of it and glancing back at the setter.

Oikawa was staring down at the folder oddly. His face had softened, but no readable emotion could be extracted from his gaze. He slowly lifted his head, catching the writer's eyes. "Thank you," he breathed.

"You're welcome," she replied loudly, trying to ease the strange quiet that had engulfed the atmosphere. "It was no big deal, really. I mean, I finished Iwaizumi-san's as well, so I'll probably give him his later…"

Oikawa laughed, "Sono-chan, you sure know how to make someone feel special. Surprisingly."

Minako scoffed, "I hardly did anything, dummy."

"Thank you."

Minako looked up him. His gaze was unnervingly steady and firm, as if trying to pry the color right out of her eyes. He smiled, true and genuine— the type that she rarely, if ever, got to see. She looked away quickly and muttered a quiet 'You're welcome', shifting away slightly as if to keep him at bay.

Oikawa laughed again, placing the folder in his lap and stretching his hands above his head, "I guess maybe I should take a break. Today, at least."

Minako nodded, "Yeah, you should. What would happen if you were to injure yourself, hm?" The question came out exactly as blunt as she knew it would. She knew the waters she would treading as soon as she voiced it but that didn't hinder her whatsoever. Minako could sense Oikawa's suspicion suddenly boring into her.

"I can take care of myself."

"Can you? What about that knee?" Minako glanced at him from her side before dragging her gaze to the white material wrapped around his right knee.

The setter didn't reply. His hand went to his knee for a moment, resting it there and strumming his fingers lightly against it. "What about it?"

The writer rolled her eyes, "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what condition in might be in." Except it did…for her, as she remembered that it was Hanamaki and Matsukawa that pointed out his injury in the first place while she simply dismissed it as an aesthetic choice. She chose to leave that particular part out.

Oikawa frowned at her words as his eyes went back to his knee, staring at it disdainfully.

Minako sighed, "Tell me, Oikawa-san—"

"No."

"—What exactly are your goals?"

She ignored his quip and growing agitation as she rummaged through her thoughts. It was something that had been on Minako's mind for quite some time, and one that had just come back to her in the past few seconds. But not one she had intended to voice aloud in this particular moment. From the moment she met him, to the very moment now as she sat beside the famed setter, the duality that she experienced baffled her. It was that strange mixture of his pompous attitude and contemptuousness contradicted with what she saw on the court and what she was seeing now that she wasn't quite able to put her finger on.

"I'm pretty sure I answered this multiple times, or is your brain deteriorating already?" he retorted after a while.

Minako scowled, "Don't make me regret being nice to you."

"Stop asking me these questions then," he chortled airily, though his annoyance could be distinguished.

"Fine," she offered. "Just answer me this, then. You beat Shiratorizawa and Ushijima-san, what then? Where will you go from there?"

"Nationals, obviously," he answered.

"Then what? You win Nationals—what after?"

"I…" Oikawa halted.

"Will you be satisfied with yourself then? Will you have accomplished all your goals?" Minako forced herself to simmer down the intensity of her tone, especially after the kindness she had displayed only minutes ago. The last thing she wanted was to sound confrontational, though she would admit that perhaps she had failed slightly in that regard.

"I can't say that for sure—you can't expect anyone to," his lips twitched into a pout.

Minako wasn't sure what point she was trying to make, if there was any point at all. She supposed it was another one of her efforts to pick apart the brunette who still had her confused after all these months. Was he simply trying to prove that he was the best? Was there even a satisfying enough answer for that? She stared ahead, staying quiet for a while before speaking up suddenly.

"You know, you share a birthday with Alexander the Great?"

"Of course," he replied quietly after a moment with a small chuckle. "I paid attention in World History class."

"Hm…" Minako pursed her lips. " ' _Oh, thy son, look thee out to the kingdom equal to and worthy of thy self, for Macedonia is too little for thee._ _'_ "

Oikawa shook his head, staring quizzically at the girl. "…What?"

Minako smirked, "Alexander the Great was a legend. That line… 'Macedonia is too little for thee', was said by his father after Alexander tamed his horse, Bucephalus, at only the age of 13."

"Hmph," Oikawa crossed his arms, grunting lowly. "So he was a genius too…"

Minako eyed him carefully before continuing. "Macedonia was far too little for someone as, well, great as Alexander, so he went off and conquered the Persian Empire."

"…Okay, why is any of this relevant?" Oikawa raised his brow pointedly.

"He also had this one-track obsession with pursuing the Persian King for no rhyme or reason other than a sheer desperation to kill him. Like, the guy chased him across two countries just to do so, and in the end he never even got to it because one of the king's generals killed him before he could. Then Alexander pursued _that_ general so he could at least kill him!" She explained further, her hands dancing animatedly in front of her.

Oikawa groaned, "What's your point?!"

Minako took a deep breath. She had to remind herself to breath and be mindful that not everyone had a 24/7 access to the overcrowded mess that was her brain, "Single-minded obsessions, the pursuit of greatness—of something above and beyond—doesn't that sound a _a little too_ familiar to you?" She eyed him exaggeratedly hoping to get whatever point she mustered up across.

Oikawa scowled deep and leaned over, poking the writer harshly on the head, "Stop trying to analyze me, you nerd. It's annoying."

Minako shrugged and swatted his hand away, "I'm just… saying."

"Besides, you're wrong," the setter mumbled, settling back down and crossing his arms against his chest.

"What do you mean?"

"Alexander the Great may not have defeated the Persian King, but he got to defeat the general that did kill him. In the end, he got his victory," Oikawa's face was blank throughout his statement, staring down at the folder still sitting in his lap, devoid of any visible emotion.

Minako chewed the inside of her mouth, fiddling with the strap of her bag. "You know, Alexander the Great was an amazing general, but he wasn't good at sustaining his kingdoms."

Oikawa turned to her, his silence urging her to continue.

"He was great at tearing down empires, but he couldn't really build-up anything in its place—at least one that lasted. Because after his death his empire broke into three separate kingdoms. I mean, his legacy was still carried on despite that, but still…"

"So, what? I have to die to finally get my victory?" Oikawa scoffed.

The writer rolled her eyes, "That's not what I'm saying."

"Please, do explain, because this history lesson is starting to make me wish that I _was_ back in World History class."

"Shirohashi-sensei was the _worst_ , though," Minako groaned.

"Exactly!"

"No, no, I'm just…" Minako paused. _What_ was it she was trying to say? Her own brain was starting to question itself and it wasn't a pleasant idea to come to grips with. "That's why I asked what your goals were, after your victory, I mean. I mean, if all you want to do is conquer for fame and glory, you're not going to have a very lasting empire."

"Fame and glory…" The setter's voice was low, ominous. "Is that was you think this is?"

"Is it?"

There was a pregnant pause. Oikawa's face stared ahead, looking down at his knee briefly before looking back up. He looked…angry. His back was hunched but his form turned rigid. A few deep breaths later he began to relax, but Minako couldn't shake the terrible unease that began to settle in her stomach. He narrowed his eyes, "Your analogies are a far reach, I hope you know."

"Yeah, I figured…" But she didn't. Because the more and more she said it aloud, the more and more she started to realize how true it really could be—scarily so.

The setter grumbled, irritated, "You're annoying, you know that? And I dislike talking to you sometimes."

Minako frowned, though she couldn't blame him; she extended those very same feelings to him the moment they met.

"You have some nerve, you know," he continued with a sigh, running a hand though his messy locks and down the back of his neck. "Coming in here, interrupting my practice time with your haughty history lesson, on _my birthday_."

Haughty?

"Fine, sorry I bothered," she mumbled, getting up from her seat. As Minako took a step forward, a hand stopped her, grasping onto her forearm. She turned her head slowly and met Oikawa's firm gaze.

"What should I do then?" his voice was soft, barely a whisper. "Not care about winning?"

"No, not at all," Minako replied, matching her tone with his. "But…just really think about what it is you're winning for."

Oikawa remained silent, his eyes never leaving hers. They stayed that way for a moment.

"Don't focus so much on your battles that you work yourself to the ground, either," she added. "It'll only make it easier for your enemies to trample over you."

It was silent again, and Minako could hear her own heart thumping at the intense and awkward—intensely awkward?—exchange. Oikawa didn't move, but his eyes finally trailed away and back down to the folder for a brief second.

"Oh!"

The two of them turned to the gym door at the sound of the voice that suddenly appeared.

Minako blinked as she took in the figure of the girl that had emerged through the doorway, her long blonde hair flowing in the breeze as she smoothed out her sun dress.

' _That girl from before…'_ It had been a while since Minako had seen the mystery blonde girl from their first encounter those weeks ago. She had honestly forgotten about it, but the sudden sound of her voice reminded Minako that it was she that had first told her of Seijoh's rest day on Mondays. So…what was she doing here now?

"Oh, Ito-chan," Oikawa acknowledged.

Minako turned to him, confused, before turning back to face the girl. She noticed the small box the blonde was holding in her hand and the affectionately shy way she was looking at the setter. She turned back to him only to notice him staring back with a passive smile on his face—such a drastic change what what he been merely moments ago.

"Oh, um, I was just leaving," the writer suddenly felt very warm and foolish as she stepped forward again, wiggling out of Oikawa's grasp. His grip tightened and she looked up at him questioningly.

"Thank you, again," he said softly. "I appreciate it, really."

"You're welcome," she mumbled, finally freeing herself from her grasp and shuffling out the gym, feeling the blonde girl—Ito's—gaze on her as she made her exit.

When she got outside she turned back to take one more look in her sudden confusion, watching as Ito approached Oikawa with her hands extended slightly. Minako heard her giggle, a soft and melodic sound, as the smile on Oikawa's face widened and he went to sheepishly rub the back of his head. Minako looked away.

She didn't even realize the aggressive frown that had settled on her face until she neared her house.

* * *

Minako stared at her laptop screen, alternating her glances between the word count and flashing of the time at the bottom corner.

She had finished. Oh, she had finished. But the cruel reality of self-imposed doubt and insecurity crushed over her like a tidal wave and she had to frequently pause and stop herself from crying out in frustration.

She tried to rationalize with herself and see whether or not it was humanly possible to rewrite her entire 35,000 word story in a little over an hour so she could make her deadline with _some_ semblance of satisfaction, or submit it as it was and hate everything forever.

Minako grumbled, reminding herself that being as dramatic as Matsui would only spell doom and that was the last thing she needed to do. She looked over to her phone and opened up her messages. The last message she had sent her jovial best friend had gone unread, which meant that Matsui had forgone her plan to stay up all night to study for her quiz and relinquished herself to sleep. Minako had no idea who to talk to. At least one that could help. She glanced at her phone again.

Her brother could be awake still, but he too had quizzes and assignments to finish up before his vacation started.

Asana Tsuyo, her editor for the school paper, was away on family vacation up in Hokkaido, so she was a dud as well.

Did she really not have any more friends?

She scrolled through her dolefully scarce contacts list, passing the time lazily as the deadline ticked ever closer. Her gaze paused at one, still labeled as _'Unknown'_ and snorted.

As if Oikawa would be any use to her right now. Empty encouragement was the last thing she needed, though the grating setter did have the annoying ability to be blatantly forthright with her.

She closed her phone harshly, tossing it onto her bed and rubbing her eyes. With a resigned sigh and final glance at the time, she began skimming through her work and typing away furiously at various points in an effort to appease whatever sense of dissatisfaction had plagued her over the course of the few weeks she been working away at her story.

And that was all she felt she could do. But it was never enough. Why was nothing ever enough for anyone?

As Minako opened up her email, typing out the formalities for her submission and even attaching her work to the email, some ethereal force of the universe caused her finger to hover over 'SEND', suspended over it as if the nerves of her brain disrupted the signals to the rest of her body. And time only kept ticking away. Her eyes would dart back and forth between the 'SEND' button and the clock, but nothing would cause her hands to do what they needed to do. Minako's heart beat erratically as a familiar anxiety slammed into her, and almost instinctively, she closed her browser and everything along with it, and shut off her computer completely.

Midnight hit. Minako watched her reflection on the laptop screen. Empty. The anxiety washed away, and soon she felt nothing. And it was only after a few minutes—the few minutes signaling the end of the Miyagi Youth Writing Competition's submission period—that the gnawing claws of shame sunk in.

Weeks and weeks of slaving over a plot line and characters all shoved to the dirt as if they were nothing. How demoralizing that even Minako's own confidence in her abilities as a writer weren't enough to submit a simple story for a youth-level competition.

Was this what defeat felt like?

No.

Defeat was when external forces prevailed. This was the writer's own doing.

She never even considered taking the competition seriously until a certain brunette setter encouraged her to do so. But why did his involvement need to mean anything? _Did_ it? Was _she_ trying to prove something? Here Oikawa was, tirelessly pushing towards a goal regardless of his suffered setbacks and Minako was…what _was_ she working towards? Is that was she was trying to prove? That success can happen without pushing one's self to injury?

She barked out a mirthless laugh.

She didn't even submit her story, who was she to say anything. Success was menial to someone like her, and maybe that's why it was so easy to shut down her laptop without a second thought. With a final shake of her head she threw herself onto her bed, burying her head into her pillow and letting out a long, frustrated groan, hoping with desperate force that sleep would consume her quickly before the guilt did.

* * *

"So, what now?"

"What now? You pass this test and then you're done with summer school. Be thankful this was the only class you failed, otherwise your entire summer would be gone."

"I did not fail! I merely had a less-than-average performance!"

"Which is failure."

"That is _not_ failure!" Matsui hissed, leaning back against her chair. "Besides, I was talking about your story."

Minako blinked. It was yet another sweltering day as she and her friend had settled into the divine air-conditioned local library. Minako knew her offer to help Matsui study for her final summer school exam would have been accepted immediately, if mostly as an excuse to gossip and complain as she typically did. Minako also knew that telling her friend about her woefully demeaning few hours of anxiety leading to her decision to not submit her story would forever be held over her. But she told her anyway. Minako couldn't yet decide if that was a mistake or not.

"What else is there to do but ceaselessly row on?" Minako resolved, frowning slightly. All this talk about failure to her best friend sounded far more patronizing in retrospect than she wanted considering the hypocrisy of it all.

Matsui deadpanned.

"I chose not to submit it. There's nothing else to do about it now but move on," the writer fiddled with the hem of her shirt, but returned her friend's gaze firmly.

"Why?" Matsui asked. "Because you're afraid of rejection?"

Minako bristled, "Why is the conversation becoming about me? You're the one with with the exam tomorrow, so focus and answer your practice questions!"

The bright-haired girl grimaced, grumbling to herself as she turned back to her papers.

Minako shook her head, leaning forward onto the table and resting her weight on her forearms. Her phone buzzed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day and she groaned to herself as she pulled out the device. He was relentless, she thought as she glanced at the messages, all of which she chose not to reply to for the sake of her own sanity.

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 **2:34PM**

 _Sono-chaaaan~ How did the competition go?_

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 **2:40PM**

 _Did you submit it early?_

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 **3:00PM**

 _Sono-chan! ;_;_

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 **3:25PM**

 _Are you ignoring me on purpose?_

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 **3:45PM**

 _Did you block me?!_

 **[From:** _ **Unknown**_

 **To: Minako]**

 **3:58PM**

 _You are SO RUDE, you know that?! Just answer me, please! One word, that_ _'s all—_

Minako shut off her phone with an irritated sigh.

"Okay, already. I'm done," Matsui sniped, handing over her work to Minako. "No need to be so grumpy."

"It's not you," Minako assured weakly, glancing at her phone once more before looking over Matsui's work.

She didn't know what to even say to the insistent setter. She had settled with nothing anything, willing her silence to subdue her guilt. For a while she was certain that he had forgotten about it— _hoping_ he'd forgotten about it. As large of a space as volleyball took in the boy's brain, he still managed to weasel it out of his memory and bombard her with requests for updates. So silent she remained, for the last thing she wanted was _his_ judgment over her cowardice.

Was that was it was? Cowardice? The fear of rejection, as Matsui had mentioned earlier? Minako was not what someone would describe as cowardly. Her straightforward and blunt nature didn't allow for such things, and all things considered it was usually her that incited cowardice in others. Yet here she was, unsure and apprehensive with how to face someone who was honestly of no relevance to her whole ordeal yet somehow managed to wedge himself in regardless. Him and his stupid, coiffed hair and nonchalant yet teasing grin—a visage of true monstrosity that truly haunted her every thought.

"Good work," Minako noted plainly, handing back Matsui's work. "Your kanji still needs some work, but you'll be fine for the exam."

"The zombie apocalypse could break out, and kanji will still be the death of me."

"Maybe you could use it to kill the zombies," Minako replied absentmindedly, occasionally peeking glances at her phone. "Listen, I should go now."

"Oh, right!" Matsui's eyes lit up. "Your brother is coming home today, isn't he?"

Minako nodded before her head shot up, eyes catching her friend's cheery gaze in a stern warning, "But give him a few days to relax before you waltz in and declare your ever-burning presence. He's still scared of you and your aggressive crush on him."

" _Formerly_ aggressive crush, thank you very much!" Matsui pouted as the two stood up and gathered their belongings.

"Formerly or not, he's still traumatized, so go easy whenever you see him, okay?" The writer giggled, falling into step with her best friend as they exited the library.

After parting ways, Minako trekked home as planned. As soon as she arrived and opened the front door, the sound of soft voices reached her ears—her father's low, deep voice accompanied by her brother's nearly identical one, if only a few pitches higher. She slowly entered the main room and smiled at the sight of them, sitting on the couch and conversing casually.

" _Okaeri_ ," she said with a smile.

Koichi turned to her, his mop of dark hair rustling with the motion. He grinned wide, which slowly dissipated into an acerbic pout. "I was expecting a more enthusiastic welcome, honestly. Where's the slow run into a jump-hug?"

"I'm not five," she stated matter-of-factly.

"You didn't even do that when you were five…"

Their father laughed suddenly, quiet but enough to make his chest rumble gently. Minako grinned, glad to see the two back in the same room, and soon joined in with a small laugh of her own.

"Welcome home, nii-san."

* * *

 **A/N: In celebration of Haikyuu season 4 coming out soon, let's try and get back on this story? Yeah? Yeah? (I'm the worst, I know)**

 **I'm trying to get my groove back. In both writing and Haikyuu, so please bear with me. As usual. There's lot to unpack from my brain. Also...I'm a writer with writer's block writing a writer with writer's block. I mean...that's the level of elegance we're dealing with here. I'm, still, the worst.**

 **Big shoutouts to angelcarstairs4679, SumCheeze, Nea-Nyx, TheListlessWriter, and Guest for your reviews! And thanks to all of you who have favorited and followed (over 75 and 100 respectively! Wowie, thank you thank you thank you!)**


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